


Strippers, Closets and Broken Things

by gladucame, vkdemon



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Intersexuality, M/M, Sex Work, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladucame/pseuds/gladucame, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vkdemon/pseuds/vkdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homophobia, a strip club and one 'mostly' male exotic dancer do not a good 21st birthday make. Dave is entrenched in a world he's never know and his bitter tongue and penchant for assumptions puts him deep in the sights of one 'Elizabeth' Hummel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ask for Elizabeth

**Author's Note:**

> **Authors:** Dragon([](http://vkdemon.livejournal.com/profile)[ **vkdemon**](http://vkdemon.livejournal.com/) ) and Karolina([](http://karomeled.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://karomeled.livejournal.com/) **karomeled** )  
>  **Genre:** AU  
>  **Warnings:** homophobia, explicit sex, intersex, slut/sexworker-shaming, prostitution, cissexsism, violence(in later chapters), non-con(in later chapters)  
>  **AN** : Dragon doesn't have an account here, but you can check out her works on her lj (vkdemon.livejournal.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trick: (slang) a client of a prostitute.

Life’s good.

The thought came to him between chapters of “Sports Ethics for Sports Management Professionals”. Normally, Dave tried not to think too much about his life. It was futile, it was a waste of time, a distraction derailing him from building his successful future and sustaining the illusion of an ideal American son.

It was depressing.

He knew his life could have turned out worse. But he knew it could also be better.

Dave managed to survive High School hoping that by the age of 20 he’ll get a grip on his life, that he’ll have it shaped into something resembling his dreams. He tried not to think too much about his life, but today he was ending the 21th year of his existence. That’s a shitload of time, years longer than he thought it’ll take him to stop running from his problems. The High School Dave thought, naively, that moving out from home and changing his circle of friends will somehow alter his life, make it possible for him to start out new. But his life quickly fell into the same rut, the habits of dodging the truth proved too strong.

Dave didn’t come out. He wasn’t sure by this point if he’ll ever be able to, because his life was good so far, easy even, and if he didn’t manage it yet, he won’t do it once he’ll get immersed by the homophobic environment of sport business. The thought that he missed his chance, that he’ll have to play the act forever, was killing him in those rare moments of cogitation, but he tried not to be a pussy about it, because he had no one to blame but himself.

Azimio pounded on the door of David Karofsky's dormitory. Dave slouched on his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

"BIG D!" Azimio, big broad and boisterous as ever best friend, bellowed as he raddled the door. "Come on man! 21! We are going to get you so drunk you black out!"

Dave stood up, threw his book on the bed, moved to open the door. "Hey, Z!" he yelled back cheerfully. Or at least he hoped so. "Look, man, I love the idea, but I don’t feel like going out today. Maybe next time?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope!" Azimio's grin split his face. "You never know how to have fun D-man. I'm going to rock your world because who's the best damn best friend on the planet?" He tugged Dave out of the room and out toward the waiting cab. "Me, that's who."

"Yeah." Dave cleared his throat. "You. Right." A part of his mind was nagging him to escape, lie and shirk. Instead he got into the cab without any protest, because what was he supposed to say? It's not like he didn't want to have fun and drink. But "fun" for Azimio meant dimmed clubs and hookers sticking their boobs into people’s faces, fuck Dave's life. He gritted his teeth, half-heartedly listening to his friend's chatter.

"You are a lucky man." Azimio continued on his ramble as he tipped the waitress in a mini-skirt and devil horns, and ordered a special for Dave. "I love you like a brother man and I know what you need. Any girl in the place. You tell me which one you like and you are going to the VIP room."

Dave felt oddly relieved at that. VIP room meant no witnesses right? Maybe he could just give the whore Z's money, wait some time and thank him later for his generosity. "I love you too, man." He said when they came up to the bar.

The trick with hanging out with Z's was to make his bro drunk before he'd notice that Dave's interest in women around is never truly enthusiastic. "Two beers, please" he said to the awfully tatooed bartender girl. He looked around the room in case Azimio bugged him about picking up a girl.

The horrible thumping music of the place shifted. A crackle came over the sound system before the thumping beat changed. The center stage and cat-walk lit up. The electronic effects brought the back curtain to be thrown open. Adam Lambert's 'Your Entertainment ' pulsed over the speakers. The long pale body strutted onto the stage. Every inch of the arms were pale and soft, the stripper's hair was long and blond, for a moment covering the stripper's eyes.

Dave turned around at the change and took a sip from his bottle. Apparently they was in for quite a show. He watched the dancer emerging from behind the backstage, moving her body to the music. He glanced at Azimio when the man catcalled, and whooped after him, feigning interest in the women on stage.

She shifted and swayed to the music, flirting along the edge of the bar with each man , tips pressed at her slightly pear hips. Each piece of cheap latex stripped away. Unlike most of the other girls this one's bra piece was illusive in it's padding. Kurt had spent long enough on the stage to know the clothing tricks to keep his reality hidden. He made it to the end of the stage, the light in his eyes. He beckoned toward where one of the girls told him was a big spender birthday boy.

Dave swallowed hard. It wasn't the first time when they went to a strip club, but he always made sure to keep on the side to not give any of the "babydolls" excuse to bother him. Now it was different. The dancer was rolling her hips right before his face, her scrawny butt filling his vision. _Whatshouldiwhatdoido_ run through his head as he looked around. All the men were crying raucously, obviously enjoying the lewd spectacle. Dave plastered a grin on his face and whistled when the girl shook her breast. He felt Azimio pushing bills into his hand and petting him on the back, so he slip it under the strap of her scant pants.

Now that the man was close Kurt could see his hand tremble. There were plenty of reasons for that, fear, adrenaline, underage. This man with his big broad shoulders and his fake smile was not underage, or with a wedding ring. Kurt needed the money that would come from a trick tonight. The gas had been turned off again since his room-mate had gotten herself back with her abusive dick of a baby daddy and without her half of rent he couldn't keep it on at the same time.

"Oh baby." He licked his lips, his voice the same as usual. It was high enough naturally no one could tell he'd lives 80% of life as a man.

Dave forced himself to smile while watching her dancing. He hoped his nervousness was not showing to the others but the whole situation was making him really tired really fast. He was sick of pretending to be aroused by ridiculous outfits, high heels and long hair. The girl seemed more that glad for the money, so Dave thought that maybe if he'll give her more she'll leave him alone. He waved the rest of the bills he had in his hands before her, and threw it under her feet.

Kurt immediately bent down, gathering it up to press it into his bra. He licked his lips and climbed off the stage right into Dave's lap. He faced away from Dave, arching back. "Look whose lucky day it is. You want some private time big boy?" He ground down and...wait... Where was the obligatory ridiculously vulgar hard-on? "Your very lucky day."

The plan was not working. The plan was definitely not working because now Dave had a fucking stripper right onto his lap, grinding into him and pressing down onto his traitorous soft dick. He heard Azimio laughing jovially next to him and reminding about his offer to pay for VIP room. Dave tensed. He couldn't just say no. He gently pushed the women off him and stood up. "Private time sounds right, sweetie." He smiled at her and let himself be lead to the room.

Kurt pushed up and sauntered, keeping one of Dave's thick hands in his. He pressed Dave to go in first. Kurt was tugged aside by the huge black man obviously jeering on Limp Dick. A wad of 20's pressed into his hand.

"Give him the full ride pretty. I know you do it."

"What a good friend." Kurt cooed as he counted out 200 dollars. He shut the door behind him and the thumping music was dulled.

The small room was filled with a dimmed chocolate light and a smell Dave didn’t want to think about. The thought of doing anything sexual in a place like this disgusted him. He briefly searched his mind for excuses to not have sex. He folded his arms on his chest. Why the hell should he explain himself to the whore anyway, he thought. She got her money already, everything will go smoothly from now on, Dave convinced himself.

The dancer slid the blond wig off, his hair was bound down under a hairnet with pins. He slowly began to undo them as he sat on the long circular couch that was just as good as a bed given the size.

"You... look different without the fake hair. Prettier, actually," Dave said before he could stop himself.

Kurt shook out his brown hair, short, but long enough to spike up with gel when he had the luxury. "Thank you. It's shorter than what most men want." Kurt fluffed it, taking in the man whose dick hadn't bothered to rise during the dance.

"So, what's your deal?" Kurt's voice dropped slightly lower, the breathy seductive tone done away with. There wasn't any need to play games now that they were alone.

"My... deal?" Dave swallowed hard and looked around nervously. "My deal is that i don't feel like fucking some chick like you, but I have a very stubborn friend who wanted to give me a birthday gift." He shrugged and circled the room. "So, if you could just stay here for a while. That'd be enough."

"Friend of Dorothy?" Kurt asked with a little smirk.

"What Dorothy?" Dave looked at her confused and pressed the palm of his hand to the couch, testing its quality. The surface barely bent under him, revealing a hard inside. He really shouldn't have expected anything but cheap shit in this kind of place. He sat down couple feet from her. He didn't know any girl named Dorothy, was the stripper high or something? Addicted to drugs, definitely. Dave eyed her with judgmental stare.

Kurt began to gather up the money tucked into his bra. He carefully smoothed the bills. If they were too crumpled the ATM machine wouldn't take them later. "What I meant is: you're gay."

"What? Who told you that?" The words were out of his mouth before he even fully registered what she was talking about, and he knew the remark was stupid, but the old instinct to flight or fight took over. "I don't have to be fucking gay just because i don't want to screw a whore." He growled and shifted on the bed, uncomfortable under her scrutinizing stare.

"Your cock for one." Kurt hissed out, the insulting word rubbing him the wrong way. He'd heard it plenty but it didn't stop it from being just as bad as fag had been. "Don’t worry. The whore doesn't want to screw you either." He unhooked the bra, careful to keep the money pinned to the inner right cup, and set it to the side, revealing his flat masculine but thin chest.

"I-I have... a condition..." Dave started with the futile defense, but gave up quickly.

He felt that stupid urge again, to just stop denying it. Maybe even tell her the truth, since she figured it pretty damn well herself. But having a confessor in a whore was beyond pathetic, he doubted anyway she’d care to listen to his sob story about years of lying about his own identity. In about 30 minutes they will be able to come out of there and never see each other again.

He snorted at her remark. Yeah, big fucking surprise, no one is interested in Dave Karofsky. Dave saw the motion in his peripheral vision and looked up just to frown at her further. "What are you..." the words were cut off when his gaze slid down the stripper's chest. The boobs were sort of missing from the picture. Dave licked his lips briefly, and looked away, afraid of being caught staring. "Geez, your kind just can't keep your clothes on for a moment."

"A whore, one of a 'kind'." Kurt spat. He had his money and the blackmail material to keep Limp Dick from squawking about Kurt not performing as paid to. "No one you would care to at least show the basic respect to. Human to human. Or does ‘cross-dresser’ fall under that homophobic de-humanizing umbrella of yours?" Kurt's bitch attitude was reduced these days. Not enough food or sleep wore down on one's ability to dish it. This trick seemed to have uncanny ability to make Kurt want to burn him alive with a wrath not seen in full form since High School...since before he ran away from home.

The comment made Dave feel bad, but he wasn't one to back away from a fight. He opened his mouth to throw in her face how hilarious it is that a prostitute is talking about respect, but he managed to stop himself. Dave figured that antagonizing her against him could really bite him in the ass. The chick seemed kind of crazy already, and he didn’t want to know what she'd do when furious. He decided to pacify the situation.

"Look, I don't care if you're wearing crosses or whatever, and I'm not a fucking homophobe, so leave it. Geez, you don't have to act like you're PMSing or something."

"How can anyone be this stupid? Cross-dressing. As in I'm a male dressing as a woman. Because I certainly don't match the Chippendale's stereotype." Kurt stood, a hip jutting out, looking down at Dave.

"You don't know a thing about me. Now, Closet-case. Since you're so set on being deep in that state; I'm going to do you a favor. I'm betting that my flat chest is starting to rile you."

Dave leaned back in surprise. "Wait, what are you talking about?" He wasn't sure if he heard correctly or if his stupid mind was playing tricks on him. "You're a guy?" He felt unbelievably stupid for asking about something that should be obvious. Well, he thought it was. The girl... man...? didn't look like a dude. Was she mocking him?

"Mostly." Kurt said softly, not expecting Dave to catch it. "Pants off and spread your knees. You just triple paid for this service. Maybe getting off with a male will help you realize what you are and that you can never outrun it."

Dave didn't need any proof that he couldn't escape the gay. He did try it in the past, but now he already knew there's no running away and accepted that.

He felt a thrill shooting through him in reaction to that demanding voice and attitude and swallowed nervously. According to Azimio and any other "bro" Dave got laid fairly regularly. And yeah, sometimes he would make out with drunk girls at a fraternity party, until they decided passing out was more interesting. Dave figured it didn't really count.He never went that far with a man, never even kissed a guy before. He was too afraid to flirt with anyone he met in college and going to gay bars elicited his paranoid fear of being caught by someone he knew. Inability to act on his attraction didn't lower it in anyway. He craved the intimacy, contact with others. But behind that there was also the regular want, the need to feel, touch and taste. He trembled slightly when the whore came up to him. He was half hard solely because of a promise of something happening, but the still functioning part of his brain was screaming that he shouldn't agree to this. He slid a hand to his crotch, uncertain of what to do. He tried to divert her (his?) attention by asking, "What do you mean by "mostly"?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. A shy, virginal, closet case. How charming. He moved closer, putting on his bedroom eyes. The dancer licked over his bottom lip. "Mostly doesn't matter to you right now. Mostly means my mouth and my hands and my chest are all male and all yours."

Dave breathed harshly through his nose and stared at the man's mouth. _All yours._ He fantasized about it so many times. His hands acted as if they had mind on their own ,and suddenly he found himself with pants down around his ankles. It'd be rude to let Azimio's generosity go to waste, he reasoned with himself. "What, so your ass is off limits for me? I thought the clients pay for the whole package."

Kurt tensed immediately before rolling his shoulders and dissipating the tension. He made muscle pliant, enticing. "Choose one. Only one."

"That's not really fair, is it?" Dave murmured. "I-I want your mouth." Dave stuttered. He felt the crimson blush heating up his cheeks. "On me. I want you to suck me off."

Kurt slid to his knees in one elegant motion. He hated the dull thunk of knees hitting the floor that had marked his early days. It was so graceless. No, he'd perfected coming down like a dancer, soundless and smooth. He leaned forward, his upturned nose nuzzling right into the thick patch of dark hair.

"WAIT," Dave almost shouted. Suddenly he felt oddly embarrassed and self-conscious. He cupped the stripper's cheek in his right hand and smiled shyly down on him. "What's your name?"

Kurt looked up, huge blue eyes filling with confusion. "Only a handful of men ever ask." Kurt voice went soft as disconnected as the gentle sentimental inquiry in the dirty back room of a strip club... "Since you know I am male... You can call me Kurt. Now enjoy." He turned his head to kiss the inside of Dave's wrist, right at the pulse.

Dave felt warm at the simple, affectionate gesture. But then the man focused on his task and Dave gasped out loud. "You're.. really good at this Kurt." He moaned feeling the hot wet pressure around his cock.

Kurt hummed in response, listening to Dave's sounds. He started slow, suckling at the tip of David before beginning the slide, getting more of the man in. His hands came up, one resting on the inside of Dave meaty thigh and the other cupping Dave's sac.

The sensation felt incredible and Dave finally understood why guys in porn movies are making all those noises during blowjobs. He certainly didn't seem to be able to shut up. Kurt's tongue was everywhere and when he added his hands to the play Dave was forced to bit hard on his bottom lip. He didn't want to come yet, but he was getting close with an astounding speed. His left hand combed through Kurt’s hair and clenched there after one particularly pleasurable trick, but the other one stayed on the man's cheek, caressing it gently.

A hand clenching in Kurt's hair was normal. The touch on his cheek however as not. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was unusual. Variations from the norm always made him nervous. There was an unpredictable element to it that usually led to violence in his line of work.

Dave relished in the feel of soft skin under the palm of his hand. It might be the only time he'd get that close with other man, so he wanted to use that time as fully as possible, not missing on any sensation. He watched Kurt working his cock in and out of his mouth, the beautiful little mouth stretch around it tightly. He made his best effort not to thrust into the man, scared of gagging him. He wasn’t of very impressing length, but his cock was thick, just like the rest of his body. He could feel it slid over whore’s velvet tongue, into the tight throat, and god, how is he ever going to get off with his hand after that?

Kurt continued at the task; he teased his right hand back behind Dave's balls to his perineum. Very carefully the stripper's short index nail drug along the sensitive strip of skin and nerves.

Kurt reach for his balls and did... something that made Dave's thighs tremble and he came with a quiet growl that didn't reveal the force of his orgasm.

Kurt knew better then to gag. He patiently waited for the seed to fill his mouth before pulling off so that the last few jolts would paint his cheek and neck. It was a skill, an artful little addition to his service and he knew it was well appreciated. He might be years away from wrapping himself in only the finest clothing, but he still kept up appearances in his own way. The perfect, artfully done facial was one of them.

Dave opened his eyes. He didn't remember shutting them up but, well, all his thoughts were covered by pleasant haze of post-orgasmic bliss. He looked down at Kurt and winced, jolted back to reality.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry. I didn't notice..." He dragged his hand over Kurt's chin trying to wipe the cum off the man's face. "Gross."

Kurt snorted, having just finished swallowing the rest. He pulled away from the wiping, really it was just going to spread it. "Stop that. What do you think these rooms are for?" Kurt steadied himself with one hand on the floor, the other tugged a box from under the bed filled with wet wipes, condoms, lube and a few spare plastic bagged sizes of men's boxers. He pulled out a wet wipe and began to gingerly dab at the sticky seed.

"Oh. Right." Dave murmured watching Kurt's abulation.

He didn't know much about brothel's etiquette. Was this it? Were they done here? Was he supposed to suck Kurt off too? He wanted to use this time and learn something new: how to make a guy feel as incredible as Kurt just made him... He bit his lip and placed his hands under Kurt's shoulder blades, then slid them down his back on his hips and let them travel towards the man's groin. "Would you like me to to return the favor?" He murmured.

"You absolutely cannot!" Kurt slapped Dave's hand away quick as a snake. The last thing he needed was some trick nosing around in his ... odd genitalia, asking idiotic likely demeaning questions, if their previous conversation was any indication. David's other hand was still on his hip, preventing him from going too far away without risk of angering David as a client.

Dave eyes widened at the spurt of anger. "I was just offering. I know I'm probably bad, but I wouldn't, like, hurt you or whatever." He pulled away from the other man. "It's just that... you made me feel really good. So I thought... nevermind. Thank you, Kurt."

"Orgasm scrambled your brain already?" Kurt responded in full defensive high bitch mode. "You forgot the early conversation about _mostly_ a guy? I do not want you going anywhere near there, alright. You're welcome for the oral. Good to know it's a job appreciated. I'm sure your friend will be thrilled." Kurt hadn't felt the need to slam up his walls as high or as fast as this in a very long time. Tricks usually didn't talk much or want to reciprocate.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry I said anything, I guess being polite is frown upon here." Dave didn't know what it was about people yelling at him, but it always made him act out. "Wait, so are you a guy or not? What does mostly mean, like you're not sure or what?" He huffed.

Kurt rolled his eyes and was tempted to make a rather undignified groan of frustration. "It means I'm not normal... physically. I've know I'm male and have since I was young. Are we done? You don't need to worry about time or seeming straight in front of your friend now." Kurt just finished strapping and clasping the bra back on.

"OH." Dave gasped. "I get it. Fuck, I can be so slow." He shook his head. "How long ago did you get the STD? Is it serious? Have you been to the doctor already? I can give you money, that kind of things should never be ignored." He stepped up closer again.

"What? Seriously! Stop. Just stop. Look, I understand. You feel good. You're floating on a cloud of endorphins that are all telling you to be affectionate and care. It's natural. You want to show you care and despite being incredibly ill-educated I appreciate that. No, I have no STDs. No, you can't get it. It's apart of the way my body developed, natural." Kurt rubbed at his temple, not yet noticing Dave advancing toward him.

"I felt good couple minutes ago, before you said there's something wrong with you. I just worry, is that a crime?" Dave shifted awkwardly on his feet. However... unusual the circumstances, Kurt gave him his first sexual experience. Okay, so maybe Kurt was right and Dave just felt temporarily connected to him. But it didn't change the fact, that this right moment, he needed to make sure Kurt would be okay after they go out of this room. "But if it's not dangerous for your health, then why are you so jumpy about it. Everyone has something about themselves they don't like."

"Everyone does. And no one likes being prodded about it. I've gotten enough hell over it to last a lifetime." Kurt glanced to the awkward male. "If your really that interested you can always come back around.” He sighed and reached out to pat Dave's arm.

“Just ask for Elizabeth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work deals with many topics that are delicate and specific. We are not experts or medical professionals. Everything described is based of our knowledge and some research into the topic which is by no means exhaustive. Writing this, we learned so many things. So here's a list of terms we used that the reader might not know some links to sites on intersex, diversity of gender identity and resources for shelters that take LBTG individuals
> 
>  **cross-dresser:** an act of putting on a clothing commonly thought of as meant for opposite sex
> 
>  **intersex:** people born with a mix of anatomical sex traits that are traditionally considered to be both “male” and “female,”or atypical for either. These sex traits include variations of the reproductive organs (such as the testicles, penis, vulva, clitoris, and ovaries), chromosomes, and/or hormone levels, which can result in _additional_ variations in secondary sexual characteristics (such as muscle mass, hair distribution, breast development, hip:waist ratio and stature.) Intersex is not a single category – many forms of intersex exist. Within each form, there may be substantial variation as well. source: <http://oiiusa.org/what_is_intersex>
> 
> **sex worker:** A person engaged in the profession of inducing sexual arousal or pleasure  
> in exchange for money. This includes the pornography industry, strip clubs, phone sex workers, and prostitution. This fic deals specifically with stripping and performing sexual acts.
> 
>  **hooker, prostitute, whore:** Derogatory terms for sex worker
> 
>  **transgender:** transgender is the state of one's ["gender identity"](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gender_identity) (self-identification as woman, man, neither or both) not matching one's "assigned sex" (identification by others as male, female or [intersex](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intersex) based on physical/[genetic sex)](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SRY) "Transgender" does not imply any specific form of [sexual orientation](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sexual_orientation)
> 
>  **genderqueer:** gender experiences that do not fit into binary concepts, and refers to a combination of gender identities and sexual orientations.
> 
> Resources and Research:
> 
>  
> 
> [Resources for LGBT Youth](http://www.aliforneycenter.org/resources.html)  
> and Homelessnessl
> 
>  
> 
> [Intersex Society of North America](http://isna.org)
> 
>  
> 
> [Sex Workers Project](http://www.sexworkersproject.org/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Wikipedia: Transgender overview](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender)
> 
>  
> 
> [Feminism and Intersex Movement: This is Our Vagina Monologue](http://www.hawaii.edu/hivandaids/Feminism%20and%20Intersex%20Movement%20%20%20%20This%20is%20Our%20Vagina%20Monologue.pdf)


	2. Ask for Elizabeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter** : sex worker shaming, prostitution, explicit sex.
> 
> If you're interested in reading about ambiguous genitalia, basic information are here: karomeled tumblr com / post /22578183320/ . You may find this entry helpful in better understanding this chapter.
> 
>  **extra girl** : _slang_ \- A stripper who will also offer sexual services beyond a lap dance and strip tease, such as blow jobs and sex.

_"Mostly” doesn't matter to you right now.”_

Dave had to admit, Kurt really knew how to work those shoes on the stage.

He wore high heels once, on a dare. It was one of the fraternity parties, first... no, second one in his freshman year. He had already six beers circulating in his blood veins, and a load of bravado inversely proportional to his soberness. Franky and Miles said he’d chicken out of walking down the stairs in Pam’s heels, so, obviously, he had to prove them wrong. The shoes were about three numbers too small for him, and painfully tight in the toes, but he bravely suffered through the discomfort and took the challenge. How he managed to not kill himself that night, he’ll never know. Maybe alcohol had some salutary influence on his grace, because when he tried to repeat his stunt the next morning, he slipped right on the second step and nearly twisted an ankle. The shoes got kind of fucked up too in the process. Watching Miles stuttering apologies under the force of Pam’s wrath was pretty amusing though.

Kurt definitely knew how to walk in high shoes. Even sober. At least he looked sober to Dave that night, although he didn’t have any delusions that Kurt was staying away from the bottle. It definitely seemed like Kurt had more reasons to drink than not.

But yeah. The heels.

Dave didn’t pay much attention to “Elizabeth’s” performance back then, and now he was pretty annoyed at himself. The few images he did memorize though, were playing in his mind on repeat.

Kurt’s long leg wrapped itself around the pole, and he hanged on his hand, spinning around it. The scrawny butt was flexing spasmodically under the material of his short pants, as he rolled his hips above the surface of the stage. And then, the way Kurt's voice dropped slightly when they got into the room, from the breathy seductive flirting, to lower register. And how his mouth worked over Dave's... well that particular memory was saved for nights and showers.

_“My mouth and my hands and my chest are all male and all yours."_

Huh. That parts of their meeting that was on his mind a lot too. He still didn’t know what Kurt meant saying that. The dancer's last words were true though. He shouldn't have bug him with his questions; damn his lack of filter between brain and mouth. He didn't mean to come across as such an ass, but, well, thinking his actions through was never one of his strong sides. It wasn't his business that Kurt choose a life of a whore either. Maybe he was just all that, a futureless skank, good enough only for cheap, groggy bars and dimmed background rooms.

Maybe not.

 _“Choose one.”_ Kurt said then, using the old as time marketing trick of making everything more exciting and mysterious than it probably was.

And Dave was totally falling for it.

_“David.”_

“David. Choose the correct answer,” the irritated voice drilled through his thoughts.

Dave looked up to find an annoyed Mrs Hilson standing right before his desk with her arms folded on her chest. He must have faze off again.

“I...,” Dave started and cleared his throat, looking down on the opened before him text book. “I... The... Would you mind repeating the questions, ma’am?” He looked up and gave the teacher a tight smile.

“I don’t suppose it’ll help you, as I see you have your materials opened on issue we discussed half an hour ago,” she answered coldly.

Dave sighed, and made a mental note about the extra assignment she gave him as a punishment.

Dave would often wonder what is wrong with him. In a way, it was quite amusing, how he couldn’t even do right a visit in a strip club. Dave had no idea how come a quick fuck for pay made him so sappy out of sudden, and why the hell he cared about some random whore, but the matter of facts was, Dave’s mind was reeling with a curiosity and something that seemed oddly similar to concern. It was probably just left over desire. 

Two weeks after losing his virginity, he pulled out money from ATM and went to the club again. The place looked exactly the same as during his birthday, but this time the crude catcalling and half naked women didn't bother him. He rushed by the bar and the stage, going straight to the side with VIP rooms. The passage was blocked by a guy of an impressing build. Dave peeked above his shoulder at the row of closed doors and licked his lips.

“Elizabeth... working tonight?”He asked holding up the small bucket of petite pink roses.

The man turned toward him, looking bored. “Maybe. I can’t keep track of ‘em all.” His eyes slid on the flowers and he chuckled in amusement. “You gotta have something more than that to get her though.”

“I know. Just wanted to do something nice,” Dave looked down at the flowers, shrugging.

Jerry suppressed a rumble of laughter threatening to escape him at the naivety of the newbie and took out his cellphone from the pocket of his jeans..

\---------

Kurt had been working the floor that night, fetching drinks and giving lapdances. Tips were steadier but usually there weren't chances for any high rollers. _Elizabeth_ was in a long red wig and a tight slinky red dress that was all about the side slit that touched his hip. Kurt headed back to the bar to refill his tray.

"Another round of cheap piss beer for the 'bowling league' at table 6, Mack." Kurt chirped to the tattooed and giant breasted lesbian bar keep as he nodded to the table of balding men with matching league shirts.

"You might want to let Jessica take that one. You've got a 'gentleman' asking for you by name." Her voice was rough like a cheap rum and just as warm to one of her favored serving girls. There weren't many of the staff who were particularly nice to 'extra girls' like Kurt. Most who didn't offer sexual favors beyond a lap dance would rather see him kicked on his ass.

"Which name?"

"Elizabeth. Jerry just called it in over the cell. He's holding him at the door just in case it's another cop."

"God, not another undercover agent. How many months did Bethy get?"

"Not enough." The two laughed conspiratorially before Kurt handed over his tray and smoothed his dress.

As Kurt approached, all seduction and grace the flowers caught his eyes first. Oh dear. A romantic. This wasn't the first time he'd been given flowers. He looked up, expecting it to be some new young client and found a familiar face. Oh, great. It was the virginal closet case.

"Hey, big boy." Kurt purred. Kurt exchanged a smile with the bouncer. The man had the nerve to give Kurt a 'thumbs-up'. Brilliant, this would be the talk of the club for a week. Lord knew the bouncers were more gossipy than the strippers. Kurt placed a hand at Dave's back to guide him along. Conveniently it allowed him to hide from Dave the middle finger he flashed. In not too many steps they were in the VIP room.

"Hi." Dave breathed.

Kurt remembered him nevertheless his many clients. Dave smiled to himself. Being recognized was kind of nice. He closed the door behind himself and stood by it awkwardly before moving further. "I'm sorry for upsetting you the last time." He said. "I bought you flowers," he reached out the hand holding the bucket towards Kurt, and grinned.

A smart boy would scoop up the bucket and coo. A smart boy would smile wide and bring up the act of being enamoured. A smart boy would milk Dave's guilt for all it was worth to keep him coming back. The flowers and the apology only brought Kurt irritation. He'd never been the best about his temper. "Please, tell me you realize the ironic hypocrisy of bringing a whore flowers after he's sucked you off for pay."

Dave's face fell and he lowered his hand slowly. "I thought the whore would like them," he said coming couple steps closer. "But I guess you're not interested in anything that doesn't involve spreading your legs for money."

"If memory serves me right, your legs were spread last time and my skirt never came off." Kurt jutted his hip, his long lean leg exposed by the parted fabric. The client looked a bit like a kicked dog. Too bad his words had turned the pup into a snarling attack dog. "It might not be a white-washed cubical but this is my work. Thank you for the flowers, was there something else you needed?"

The long pale limb caught Dave's gaze and it took some effort to look up at Kurt and listen to what he was saying. When he registered the man's words, his answer left him before he even realized he was speaking. "You." Dave came up to Kurt and reached out a trembling hand. He brushed it down the other man's arm, stopping at the height of Kurt's hip and he covered the whore's hand with his own. "I need you."

Kurt smiled with thinned lips; this part he understood. He lifted his hand just a fraction so it seemed to arch into Dave's. It was a subtle little trick he'd picked up, the hands were the precursors to the body. They showed intent, most men never noticed that their fingers and hands would telegraph the need right to their cocks. "You have to be more specific then that. What do you need?"

The change in Kurt was smooth but noticeable. Of course, he would act normal at the mention of sex, Dave thought grimly, still disappointed with the flowers fiasco. He took Kurt's hand in his and led the prostitute to the bed, throwing the bucket on the small table next to it. His fingers sneaked under the straps of Kurt's dress, slowly easing it off his arms. He leaned in and kissed the exposed skin, right above Kurt's left collarbone. His hands made their way to the man's back, embracing him. Dave brought his lips to Kurt's ear and whispered "I want to fuck you."

Kurt hummed, leaning enticingly toward Dave. He took in the man's size, the spread of his hand, trying to get a judge on his penis size. One would think after taking Dave into his mouth he'd have a better memory for it. Alas Dave had been one of many to fill the money gaps that week. Kurt might be able to take him into his pussy. "Five hundred, sweetheart."

Dave drew back, his hands falling off Kurt's body immediately. "Five... Are you serious? Azimio paid you two hundreds last time!" He scowled. No matter weekend job and sport scholarship, but for him it was still a lot of money to spend on a whore.

Damn. He was banking on the virgin thing to keep him ignorant that that price was exorbitant. Kurt hummed, his first two fingers coming up to tap his lips. "Well... I suppose I can go a little lower. $400. You must admit I'm a rare breed."

"I hope your service is worth the money." Dave said, taking out the cash off his pocket. He mentally praised himself for taking with himself more than he originally was going to. He gave the bills to Kurt and moved to sit on the bed. Kurt swiftly flicked through the bills. He clipped them to the inside of his bra before returning to all smiles for Dave.

"I want to watch you undress." Dave said and licked his lips when Kurt obeyed. The power to dictate all rules was intoxicating.

Show time. Kurt used to think of this part as method acting experience. A notch in his resume for when someone needed a Pretty Woman or Rent or Gypsy role filled. It was a nice dream. For $400 he should give the man what he wanted. "What's your name? And do you want me to take the wig off first?"

"Yes, take it off." Dave's hand palmed his cock through his jeans. This whole knowing each others names thing wasn't that good after all. Slightly confusing actually. Kurt was confusing. One moment he would get all moody because of freaking flowers, the next one he wanted them to get more personal? Dave sighed.

"Tonight you're going to scream 'Dave'," he said, and cringed inwardly at the lame remark when it left his mouth.

"Sure thing, Davey." Kurt slid his wig off, carefully placing it aside. The cheesy comment earned an eyeroll once Kurt turned his back. He slowly undid the bobby pins, his natural hair flopping forward. It was damp from being under the cap for so long.

Dave unzipped his jeans and pulled them down. He groped himself through the boxers watching the other man. He lifted his legs and kicked the jeans off before taking off the boxers as well. He debated whether to stay in the shirt or not. He was the most self-conscious about his chest, so he decided to leave the shirt on for now and focus on the performance before him.

Kurt swayed as he carefully slipped out of the dress. Under it was a pair of tight black women's underwear. He removed his bra and pet both hands down his shaved smooth chest. "You want to touch this, handsome?"

Dave's hand froze around the shaft and he swallowed hard. He didn’t want anything more since their last meeting. He stood up, his cock hanging fully erect and heavy between his legs, and came up to Kurt slowly, taking in the glorious expanse of pale skin. He reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of Kurt's chest, stopping at his navel and circling it briefly. Some distant part of his mind was aware that most of Kurt's behavior was fake and trained just for guys like him. Nevertheless, Kurt was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He rested his hands on Kurt's hips for a moment and looked him in the eyes, leaning in. He was so close he could smell Kurt's scent and somehow, it turned him on even more.

Kurt licked his lower lip. The slow touches on his chest were actually beginning to turn him on. That was rare. His almost sweet touching was like a lover's. Dave's hands slipped further down into Kurt's panties and squeezed his cheeks. Kurt moaned lewdly, as if he actually enjoyed the groping on his ass. How incredibly crude.

Dave smiled into Kurt's hair. He was doing a good job so far, if the noises Kurt was making were any indication. He grabbed the band of the underwear and pulled it down roughly, exposing Kurt's perfect little ass. He cupped the cheeks and kneed it with his fingers, watching the reddening flesh over Kurt’s shoulder.

Kurt placed a hand on each of Dave's shoulders, his mouth taking up a path of kissing along his trick's throat. Dave moaned and buckled his hips forward, pressing Kurt's tightly to his body, and sneaked one of his thighs between Kurt's legs.

Kurt tensed for a moment, suddenly exposed. He knew this part, either he'd get a comment, or a scream, or some times a demand for him to cover up and just use his mouth. His cock hung flaccid about 2 inches long over his labia and opening. He waited, kissing at Dave's neck to distract himself from the impending rejection.

 _What the...?_ Dave thought Kurt was aroused, but the ordinary hardness was nowhere to be felt. He leaned back confused and looked down Kurt's chest on his groin. One of his hands slid up from the cheek and cupped the soft, tiny dick. It looked ridiculous compared to the prominent length of Dave's erection, straightening right beside it. Huh. So he wasn't doing that good in the turning-Kurt-on department after all. Dave wasn't going to back away though. He reached further to touch Kurt behind his balls, remembering how great it felt when Kurt did that last time. His hand met soft lips and his finger dipped into the moisture gathered there. Dave looked up at Kurt, but the man was pretending to be occupied with creating a hickey on his throat. Using his left hand, Dave lift Kurt's chin to force him to look him in the eyes.

"Is this what you were talking about the last time?" He asked, sliding his finger further into the hot, tight passage.

Kurt gasped as the finger explored his pussy. The man wasn't pulling away? The finger was thick and rough against his delicate outer lips. Kurt’s voice was breathy and higher than before. "Yes. This is what I was talking about. Mostly male. With parts of both."

Dave growled, surprising himself more than Kurt. He pulled the finger out and slowly slid it back in, dragging it over the inner walls of Kurt's pussy. He didn't know why Kurt seemed to have both male and female parts down there, but he knew he wanted it all. "Bed," he whispered pulling out of Kurt.

Kurt obeyed. Despite the shock at Dave's reaction, he sank to the bed with all the grace of a ballet dancer. Every now and then he found men who liked him for the duality, he had a few regulars. It was always surprising and usually felt wrong, like a fetish. Kurt moved back, his legs closed with knees together, hiding his pussy for the moment. His hands came down to touch and entice his cock.

"Found something you like?"

"Let me see and I'll tell you." Dave smirked at him.

He spread Kurt's knees, exposing his pussy, and sat back on his heels. Kurt was right. The body displayed before him seemed like a rare creature. Dave caressed Kurt's thighs, brushing his palms up and down while watching Kurt's hole. He dragged his finger over the labia and teased it for a split moment back into the man. The flesh pulsed around his digit. Fascinating. He pulled out of Kurt and brushed the wet finger over the head of Kurt's dick, feeling it harden under his touch.

Kurt shuddered. The man was actually touching his cock too? Oh, wonderful. "Dave... that's good." He spread his legs further, more willing to let Dave explore. "All for you, big boy."

Dave hummed in the response to the praise. Acting on impulse, he leaned in and gave a long lick along the lips before wrapping his mouth around the small cock. Dave fantasized about many things during his jerk off sessions, but receiving head was always on top of the list. He was kind of curious about giving it, and afraid of it too. As much as watching porn vids with twinks choking of some guy’s dick, was a fun thing to do, Dave didn’t wish to experience it himself. Kurt's cock fit well in his mouth and he could bob his head up and down without gagging. He wanted to do something about the pussy but had no idea how the damn thing works, so he just slid his finger in again. "Is this okay? You like?" He leaned back for a moment to whisper before returning to work the cock faster in and out of his mouth again.

Kurt groaned deep in his throat as Dave's wet warmth swallowed him up. His hip wiggled, not thrusting quite, but rotating on the digit. "Yes. I like. Play with the folds. Run your finger along the outside until I'm dripping."

Dave obeyed to the comments. He let the cock slip out of his mouth for a moment and licked around his finger, buried in Kurt’s pussy. He brought his other hand to Kurt's hole, and brushed the thumb over the labia, hot under his digit. After a short moment he came back to the cock, missing it already, and slid it into his mouth, sucking lightly and massaging the underside with his tongue.

Kurt smiled down at the man, pupils blow so wide that only a sliver of green was left for Dave. The dual sensations rolled into a beautiful pulsing wave searching toward him. "David. Good. Feels good." He was slick, the wound up sensation making his passage ready. "In me, get in me now."

Dave sat up. Kurt looked unbelievable, spread and needy like that. Dave licked his lips and reached out for the drawer Kurt showed him last time. He pulled out a condom, tore the package, and fumbled with putting it on.

Kurt watched, his lust-filled eyes still examining to make sure Dave had got the condom right. He pushed up on his elbows, reaching for Dave's sheathed cock to pinch the tip of the condom and allow a pocket for his seed. Dave blushed slightly when Kurt fixed the condom. His inexperience was showing again.

"Don't thrust too hard."

"I won't," Dave said looking into Kurt's eyes.

Not breaking the eye contact, he lowered himself onto the smaller man, and directed his cock between the folds of Kurt's pussy. He put a little pressure at first, but Kurt's cunt opened before him and he could slid in almost with ease. "God, you're so tight." Dave moaned resting his forehead on Kurt's shoulder. He thrust experimentally into the man, scared of doing something wrong.

Kurt groaned happily at the length sliding inside of him. He'd been actually aroused properly for sex for the first time in... well, ever. He wrapped his long legs around Dave's thick waist. The man's shirt edge was brushing against his spit slicked cock. "Take it off. Why are you still wearing that?"

Normally, Dave would protest but he wasn’t in a state to argue. He leaned back and pulled the shirt off. Apparently Kurt's words were his command. For now. He threw the clothing on the side and pressed into the other man again. The feeling of skin on skin contact was phenomenal. His furry abdomen chafed the head of Kurt's cock, and Dave could feel the precum gathering between them. He put his arms on both sides of Kurt's head for better support and resumed the slow thrusts, his face hovering above Kurt's.

Kurt's mouth fell open, dark pink lips wide as his body clenched around Dave's length. The hair, the rampant physical masculinity only served to speed Kurt's lust. His cock slid between them, just enough stimulation to keep him hard but give no release.

Dave moaned quietly. There was not a hotter image than what he had before him. He ducked his head and planted a soft kiss on Kurt's cheek. He brushed his lips over Kurt's cheekbone, and slid lower to kiss and lick a path behind Kurt's ear. His hands inched to explore the man's body so he let his left palm travel over the chest, thigh wrapped around him, anywhere he could reach. The fingers found Kurt's nipples and started playing with them.

Kurt bucked up, rutting Dave into him in counterpoint to his thrusts. All the touch, the sensation was making his skin flush across his face and down his collarbone, the ruddy color kissing his hard nipples.

"Dave, Dave, Ah! Please."

Kurt's tight passage clenched, muscles holding Dave firm within as he rocked through an orgasm. If watching that beautiful body orgasming underneath him wasn't enough for Dave, Kurt's pussy tightened around him and he spilled into the condom gasping out Kurt's name. They kept frozen for a moment, breathing harshly, until Dave pulled back and awkwardly slid the condom off his cock. He tied it up, wincing, and threw on the floor, too lazy to bother about searching out a waste basket. Dave laid down and, surprised, noticed that Kurt's still erect. He knelt on the bed beside him and took him in his mouth again. He slid his mouth up and down fast.

Kurt's hands immediately went into Dave's hair. He was sensitive from his first orgasm and the heat was almost too much. His hips bucked upward into Dave's mouth. His sounds were a combination of high gasps and staccato breathing. It didn't take long, just the steady sucking and he was releasing clear ejaculate into the other man. It lacked the usual heaviness or thickness of most men's cum as it was lacking sperm. Kurt collapsed back, a hand still gripping Dave's hair.

Dave eased the clenched fingers from his hair and moved up Kurt's body peppering light kisses on his chest. He stopped, hovering over Kurt's face for a moment, and laid down beside him. His hand sneaked on Kurt's cheek, and he kept it there, tenderly brushing Kurt's cheekbone with his thumb.

Kurt laid limp, exhausted by his own dual peaks. He laid, floating content for a few moments beside Dave. He shouldn't linger, really he shouldn't, not with this client, the man who brought flowers. Kurt let out a happy little sigh.

The experience was nearly overwhelming. It was ridiculous of him, really, but Dave already craved more. He couldn't believe he was missing out on so much thus far. The physical pleasure, the intimacy of being with other person. Could anyone ever get used to this? Dave's hand froze. Well, Kurt had guys like Dave everyday. Probably couple times a day, considering the throughput of this club. It might have been something memorable for Dave, but Kurt was here only for the $400 tucked into his bra. Dave sat up abruptly, his back to Kurt.

"Well, that was fun," he said pulling on the boxers.

Kurt sat up, smoothing his hair before reaching below the bed. "Glad you enjoyed." He found himself actually disappointed.

There were plenty of reasons men came to whores. Sometimes they wanted companionship, sometimes to get off, sometimes to talk about their wives, and sometimes they wanted to pretend to be loved. He had thought Dave was the last.

"You probably have some other men to screw out of their money. I don't wanna take up your time." Dave murmured putting on the rest of his clothes.

"For most men, getting off calms them down. Apparently it turns you into an even bigger dick." The stripper snipped, wiping himself down with the little wipe packets.

Getting angry at whore for whoring themselves was ludicrous. But Dave wasn't sure what is he angry about and at whom. Probably himself. Stopping now wasn't an option.

"Yeah, you would know a thing about dicks," he spat out. "From observation, I mean, not experience.”

"What is your problem?" Kurt cleaned himself quickly, looking over to the clothing folded beyond the bed. He stood, perfectly elegant despite being naked. "It's either that you're gay, that you acted on it, that you're guilty because you have some sort of girlfriend or because you had sex with a hooker who has bigger balls than you, even if they are internal."

Dave's hands flied to Kurt's face, and the next second he was kissing the little whore, cupping his face gently. How pathetic.

Kurt jolted at the sudden kiss. First Dave was prickly, now this? He melted into it, a forced reaction when dealing with an unpredictable client. He slid a hand around Dave's neck. The temptation to dig unforgiving nails into Dave's throat suppressed.

Dave pressed him closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue explored the inside of Kurt's mouth fervently. He moaned and the sound brought him back to reality. Dave broke the kiss, stared down at Kurt, wide-eyed.

Kurt was just getting into the kiss when Dave pushed at his chest. The man was a good kisser despite the inexperience and insults. He sighed as he watched him go. "Goodnight David. I hope you enjoyed yourself. I did." He said as if it had been a date. Dave might be the type to want or need the illusion of a relationship.

"Save it." Dave said walking out the door.


	3. Felt Like Something Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** sex worker shaming, allusion to non-con, homophobic sexist and cissexist language.  
> 

Dave didn’t miss Kurt.

The sole thought that he would feel any sort of longing after the transaction was pretty laughable. Not only because it was a whole new level of fucking pathetic to pay for sex. Dave knew if he'll give in to thinking about Kurt, in his hopeless desperation he'll get all sappy, and do something stupid. Like come back to the bar. Or start having feelings for the whore. It was a closed topic, buried under the the crucible of football practice, parties and studying.

Dave sighed and put down the book he was pretending to read. It was clear now, the both times were mistakes that should have never happen, and Dave only wished he had this wisdom before his 21st birthday. He wished for a lot of things, actually. Like, meeting Kurt in some other circumstances. Or maybe some other guy, with normal dick and stuff. Not that Dave really mind the vagina, to his own consternation. Playing with it wasn’t bad at all, and the noises he could draw out of the other man made him want to just keep sucking on the lips and finger him. He wondered if the fact that he enjoyed eating Kurt out made him a little less gay. If it turned out that he wasn’t much of a queer after all, at least one good thing would come out of this mess.

Dave closed the book, and focused on recalling that night. He could easily imagine Kurt was an Elizabeth, all long hair and delicate features. She’d laid down before him, the full lips grazed with red lipstick and smirking at him seductively. Like Kurt did. Dave slid a hand onto his groin. Just like then, her legs would spread for him, revealing a small opening hidden between pink lips. Dave felt his mouth water at the memory, and pressed the hand down on his cock. He didn’t get the chance to really taste it the last time, so he’d dive right in, the tongue slipping deep into the other man, licking and probing at the sensitive flesh, until Kurt...

Fucking hell.

Dave’s hand fell from his crotch. He leaned back on the chair, and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t do it. Pussy or not, it had to come with a guy. He was pretty sure Kurt could have actual tits and he’d still fuck him. It seemed now like a sarcastic joke from the lot, really, how he could get it up for some hermaphrodite whore but couldn’t for any decent chick.

He was startled by the loud thump on the door.

"Yo, D!" Azimio was of course dropping by Dave's like he owned the place. They had lived between each other's houses since the 9th grade so there was an assumption that any residence was good as the others. Azimio walked on in with a 6 pack of beer.

"Hey, man." Dave welcomed the distraction with open arms. He made place on his bed by throwing the clothes on the floor, and lounge himself on it.

"What brings you with such a bountiful gift to my humble abode."

"Beer."

Azimio pulled one off the pack for each of them before lounging on the cleaned off bed. "And a blast from the past. Open up your laptop and pull up YouTube. Strando just sent me the funniest fuckin' thing."

"Now you got me scared. I'm kinda afraid what Strando may find funny, dude," Dave said opening up his laptop and a browser. He typed the address quickly and handed the device over to his friend.

Azimio logged into his profile and pulled up a video of a football field. "Don't worry, it's not Two Girls One Cup. This is the semester before you came to McKinley, and the football team's faaancy moves." He clicked play.

For a moment Dave didn't get the drift. There were guys on the school grounds, all dressed up in a proper gear. Must have been during some kind of match, he could see the other team McKinley was probably competing against. But then... music exploded into the field and the football players jolted into motion, busting out dancing moves. Dave burst out laughing. "What the fuck is this?" He choked out, wiping the tear from his eye. Z was right, the image of macho football players swaying hips to old hit about engagement was hilarious.

Azimio laughed with a high 'hehehe' as he watched himself and the other footballers shake a tail feather. "First game we won in like two years under that crap coach Tanaka. All thanks to the little town Queer."

The song ended abruptly, just in time for some petite guy to run up to the ball and kick it. Dave's mouth dropped open.

"You meant _that_?" It was a really fucking awesome kick. The dude didn’t even look like he had that strength in him. Dave shifted slightly on the bed. "So, the guy was queer, huh? And like, played with you?" He asked, offhandedly as it seemed, inwardly dying to know how come guys from the team allowed it.

"Number one Queen Queermo himself. Yeah, that kick was the only reason he got on the team. Hudson vouched for him. Whatever, man. You're lucky you didn't meet him. Dressed like a damn girl. Good thing he up and left."

"Yeah, only Hudson could be retarded enough to vouch for a homo to play football," Dave murmured, remembering the naive and slightly ditzy guy. He liked Finn.

The football team in the vid hefted the small kid off the ground, cheering up. The boy took off his helmet and Dave gasped, quickly covering it with a cough. He chastised himself for reacting so visibly, but thankfully Azimio didn't notice anything as he downed another swallow of beer.

The vid ended, propositions of new once popped up, and Dave find out his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. The kid was there, frozen on a thumbnail of another video. Dave stared at the chubby face splitted in a triumphant smile. The resemblance was eerily close. Dave shook his head, and took a gulp of his beer. _Impossible._

"There's a bunch of videos up. McKinley got all fancy and uploaded a bunch of alumni shit. Strando thinks Figgins is trying to get donations. Fat chance, eh?"

"Dude, Figgins should get his head out of his ass, and take the money from Sylvester." Dave shrugged.

The cheerleading coach was one crazy bitch and according to the urban legends floating around about her, was stealing a large amount of school's money for her champions. There was a cheer-leading video in recommendations, so Dave clicked on it. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. The cheerleaders, man, you remember?"

"Hell yes. Damn, those girls were hot. I ever tell you about the time I had a threesome with Brittany and Santana. All pussy, all for me."

Dave chuckled. "Yeah, I bet you did. Maybe you're the one who turned them lesbian."

Azimio smacked Dave across the back of the head right as a clear high voice began to sing in French. “Ow!" Dave yelped and elbowed his friend in revenge.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot the queer was in cheerios too."

Dave turned to the screen and froze. It was definitely the queer boy from the football field. But older. Matured. His chest was slightly broader and his jaw so well-defined, all the baby fat gone.

It was Kurt.

"That's more like a place for him I guess." He started hoping Azimio will continue.

"He was practically a girl. You shoulda heard the hell we gave Rashid for thinking he was a girl and wanting to tap that." Azimio laughed, his eyes obviously on the skirts.

"He sure sounds like one. I get why Rashid might've been confused. So did he like, asked him out?"

"Oh, hell no. We were talking about chicks in the locker room. He mentioned Hummel. You shoulda heard the laughing. He saved his rep by nailing the fag's furniture to his roof."

"Whoa. Creative," Dave said, and took a deep breath, feeling the anger creeping into him. "You probably had a lot of fun with showing him where's his place, right?"

"Yeah, sure. As much as the other losers. Dude, don't be gay about this. Watch the skirts, not the one queer dude." Azimio gave Dave a look.

Dave mentally cursed himself. Way to get Azimio suspicious and find out nothing.

"Dude, I have tons of skirts to look at around here. McKinley's cheerleading team has nothing on ours. You should've seen the one I banged on the party last Saturday," Dave threw at his friend the confident smile and easy lies.

"Dude. You have to tell me when this shit goes down. What was she like? A slut?" Azimio asked, eager to get off Dave's fixation. Seriously Dave was always kind of shy, but Azimio figured Dave was a late bloomer.

Dave swallowed. "Yeah. A slut. Pretty skilled, if you know what I mean. Really tight." He felt a pang of arousal remembering Kurt's body. His cheeks heated, and he hurried to change the subject. Getting a hard-on while sitting next to Azimio was pretty much the last thing he wanted. "You need to come with me the next time, maybe one of them will get so drunk that you'll get laid too."

"Boy, don't even. Just because you are finally not a virgin does not mean you get more hot pootang then the Z." Azimio grinned wide watching Dave. He'd been starting to get worried there for a while about Dave's celibacy. Either the boy was a priest or he was playing for the other team...and Azimio wasn't even going to begin thinking like that. "This girl a one night thing or is it a repeat booty call?"

"One night, definitely. Why would I want a chick with such an easy access?" Dave slouched in his seat. "I bet she's already spreading legs for some other guy."

"Good to have a girl you can call when you're hard up. I've got one." Azimio chuckled, leaning back to drink a bit more.

"Wow, you're saying there is a chick desperate enough to be your fuck toy?” Dave laughed half-heartedly.

"Sure. All girls are sluts man. As long as you keep it covered you don't get any child support from it. You did keep it covered right?" Azimio nudged his best friend's ribs. "Or do I need to give you the talk?"

"You giving me The Talk? I'd like to see you trying to fucking teach me anything, man."

"I gotta watch out for my bro. So which party was that again?" Azimio's eyebrows wriggled lewdly.

“Leave it, dude, I'm not seeing her again. Something tells me she’d be too expensive to keep around." He smiled at the joke only he understood.

"Damn, boy, you got a gold digger? Drop that chick." He grinned right back at Dave, the joking normal for them. "Here have another beer dude."

Dave took the can and forced himself to open it. He didn't feel like drinking at all.

\---------------

The next time he opened his laptop and started a browser, the last viewed page popped up, hitting him with a sense of nostalgia. The two years he spent in Lima’s largest High School were a pretty good time. Simplier, for one.

For Kurt, High School must have been hell. Being so obviously gay and effeminate in a place were watching Grey's Anatomy is frowned upon for sure caused him a lot of troubles. Dave suspected that the stuff Azimio told him about wasn’t even beginning to describe what Kurt went through.

But something was not right in that picture. The boy in these videos was strutting down the row of cheerleaders, singing in foreign language and earning ovations because of his high kicks and hip moves... He was your typical out and proud homosexual, as if cut off from an "It's okay to be gay!" pamphlet.

And then there was the other Kurt, the one Dave got to know first. The Kurt who would grind against men in a cheap club, the Kurt who would strip and suck off dicks for money.

It was beyond Dave how those two Kurts could share the same life.

A plethora of recordings were up on the McKinley YouTube channel. There was a folder marked for Cheerios based on year and another for Glee club. Tagged in both was a video marked “In Memory of Kurt Hummel”. It was a compilation performances of Kurt's all set to a track of him singing Defying Gravity. Quick google search didn't give Dave much, just an information in a newspaper about missing teen. He vaguely remembered some mentions in his junior year, but he craved details.

Dave spent the next couple days listening to Kurt's voice. He didn't know much about music, but damn him, if Kurt wasn't extraordinary. His voice was distinctive, yeah, but beautiful and so versatile. Dave watched every video he could get his hands on. The raw sound of "Pink Houses" made him shiver, the angelic "Like a Prayer" haunted him long into the next days.

 _In Memory of Kurt Hummel._ The McKinley High student body seemed convinced that Kurt is dead.

Dave slowly lowered his head on the headdesk. His eyes were burning after hours spend in vain online. The fact that there were barely any traces when it came to Kurt was driving him insane. No mentions on McKinley's official forum, no one recalling it on other services. Was it really so easily for a person to drop off the face of earth? Why no one cared anymore? Why had people allowed Kurt to become just another statistic? Why aren't they searching for him instead of calming their conscience with cheesy tribute vids?

He briefly considered calling his parents and ask if they remember the disappearing of one Kurt Hummel. But till now he contacted them only on holidays and when he needed some extra money. _Hey dad, you remember that one missing gay kid who I never met?_... right, that wasn't random as hell.

Dave groaned in frustration, shutting up his laptop.

\--------------

It was Kurt's day off from his day job as a waiter working for a Bobby McGee's where acting and singing was a helpful tool. Every single host there would die to be discovered. Kurt didn't hold out too much hope. With the economy as it was and the low possibility of Broadway casting directors coming into Harlem looking for talent, Kurt never expected the job to bring anything but an extra wage.

He was sitting delicately on to of a washer at his local laundromat, a 2 month old copy of Vogue keeping his attention. The lucrative client a few months back had afforded him the tiny luxury of being able to purchase one of his old staples and he was going to cherish it for as long as possible.

Kurt glanced up from his reading at the boisterous voices entering the place. Great, it was the local punks, a little gang of no importance on a grand scale, as far as the cops were concerned, but ruled his street with an iron fist. Kurt fingered the switchblade he kept in his pocket. It was no secret what his night job was.

The insults came as always, queer, fag, pussy, whore. They jeered and taunted. Kurt tended to his laundry, head held high. This was nothing new, nothing strange. Just a day. He does his washing and he gets harassed.

You can't call the cops because if you're lucky enough to get one who doesn't work the nights and knows you're a stripper, then one of the gangbangers will claim they are your ex and the cop will walk away assuming it's a domestic issue.

Kurt wiped the corner of his mouth, his fingers careful to keep the sticky substance off his washing. The gang had finally moved on. Kurt made it home with a bad taste in his mouth and some wounded pride. A better day than most. With the same care and dedication as he once used on his fine designer clothing he folded and hung the freshly dried cloth. Kurt bypassed hanging most of his dresses. He pulled out his work bag, delicately arranging the outfits he would work the club in this week.

The nights were always a strange combination of elements. He'd dress in his masculine clothing to get to the club and slip into the silks and cheap nylon once he was inside the relative protection of the building. A vinyl white and red candy-stripper outfit found it's way into his folding. Chuckling, Kurt hung it up. The last month had been very profitable thanks to Mr. 'I bring flowers and moral judgements'. Kurt wouldn't need to take any VIP tricks so there was no need to have to wear the horrifying outfit.

His closet was so different than what it once was. The cavernous closet he'd had in his father's house had given way to a smallish bar hidden behind a sliding cracked mirror. Half of the closet was filled with faux leather, vinyl and tiny skirts; his 'Elizabeth' outfits for the club. The other half was filled with his Kurt clothing, mostly items from the good will that he'd taken needle and thread to and turned into something he would want to wear. It was amazing some of the treasures he'd managed to find. A particularly elegant old twill waist coat was slipped lovingly onto a wire hanger. He hung it beside a time-worn fringed jacket he'd sadly grown right out of since he'd left home sophomore year. Kurt shut his eyes against the memory as the strands of the jacket stid through his fingers. He wouldn't think of that place now. He had life to manage.

Once done with that be began on diner. His room mate would be home from her shift at the bar soon and joint diners seemed to calm both of their nerves. He certainly preferred Melanie to the last room mate. There as no screaming terror of a child to need sitting or a screaming baby-daddy picking fights with them every other weekend. It was sad in a generalized way but when it was your apartment it became annoying as hell.

"Spaghetti today." He called as he heard the front door shut. "I had the day off so we even have garlic bread. The oven was working finally."

Melanie went straight to her room without a word. She came out from it after a minute and, putting a worn out shirt over her head, came up to the kichenette. “Awesome,” she murmured before dropping on a stool. She watched him move around the small place and drummed her fingers on the table in anticipation.

Kurt dumped the noodles into the strainer. He grabbed the clean dishrag to plug the hole in the netting to make sure none slipped through. He winced a bit as the steam poured over his fingers. Maybe he'd take another VIP to replace a few things for once. "Grab the drinks, dear."

Melanie sighed and with a wince stood up from the table. She took out two glasses from a drawer and set them on the table. “You look pretty cheerful,” she said, pouring the tea into the vessels.

"It was a good day all told. I'm not going to be scrambling for rent this time around." He poured out the noodles onto each plate. The rest of the massive batch went into a bowl that he then covered with plastic wrap and tucked into the fridge. They had left overs for once. He slid into his seat after placing the tomato sauce between them. "It's a shock what prices you can get off certain types of clients."

“So happy for you,” she said without any trace of joy in her voice, and stabbed her dish with a fork. “You got some newb?”

"Don't be jealous." He chastised playfully. He adored Melanie so far, it had been far too long since he'd had a girlfriend. "He's gay, closeted so deeply I kept expecting Tumnus to slink out to watch us."

“Sorry, Cupcake. I’m just really tired,” She rubbed a hand over her face. The words make her looked up with a newfound interest though. “Gay? And he took you?”

"I know!" Kurt leaned forward, smirking as he snatched a piece of garlic bread. "He... I couldn't believe it but he actually was excited and good at it! Well, good as anyone is with my particular anatomy."

Melanie chewed on her food for a moment, staring at the man. “Aww, is he cute?” She smirked. No harm in teasing her roommate a little bit. He deserved it for jolting her out of the blues again.

"Oh my God, shut up!" Kurt giggled at her comment. Beyond any of the monetary requirements of needing a roommate he needed this. The sharing of experience. He knew the kind of exhaustion that had been in Melanie's eyes. He felt the same coming home from that place. Without something like this, someone who knew, it would threaten to overwhelm them both. "Sort of in a 'burly bear' kind of way. He seems like an athlete and he's young. Maybe my same age."

Melanie chuckled and took another bite of the pasta. She shook her head. “Damn. I can’t even remember when was the last time I had a guy who made me wet.”

"Rare. Always rare." He twirled his fork in the air as he spoke. "It felt like something real. Not just a trick. Of course he has his problems. I'm not sure if a quick bang without words would have been better. This one likes to talk."

Melanie inhaled suddenly. “Wait a moment,” she pointed her fork in accusation at Kurt. “I heard there was a guy who brought you flowers.”

"Gossip!" He scrunched his nose at her. "Yes, that one. He's hopeless."

She laughed. “Those are the best though. You made sure to milk his infatuation, right?”

"Not... quite. I might have let my temper get the better of me. You know how I get with false platitudes." He sighed.

“Oh, I know how you get, alright. You get sick because you can’t afford meds, for instance.” She scoffed. “When you’ll finally learn, Kurtie?”

"Never." He rolled his eyes. His pride, it was still somehow attached to him, despite all of the things trying to rip it from him. "I'm an actor but... I just hate the hypocrisy of it. I know what they want, they know too. Why should anyone be forced to bear burden of the illusion?"

Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know. Why people just don’t jump straight to bed at the age of 15 and start procreate? All this courting, and marriages, and such shit is just an illusion, a derailment from the real purpose of existence, isn’t it?” She chewed on the piece of meat and swallowed it. “Sometimes, you just need to keep up the appearances, you know? It’s nicer. Makes the work more bearable.”

Kurt leaned forward, a conspiratorial smile gracing his face. "Why are you so logical? I think you poke holes in my prudish nature for the fun of it." He could bring her up when she got home and she could bring him up from his own adventures into depression. "I'll try. Maybe I'll show a little more compassion to the lug next time he comes. If he comes back."

“Someone has to be the logical one between the two of us,” she sighed exaggeratedly, but her face split in a smile. “Good. You’ll see if he believes your sweet talk.” They eat in silence for a moment. Melanie looked at Kurt with a fond smile. Even though the age difference between them was relatively small, she was in business three years longer, and treated her roommate as a sort of protege. They had to take care of each other, there was no way to survive on their own. She observed the man for a moment. Kurt ate his meal with a distant smile, and a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Hey, Kurt?” She said putting her utensil down.

"Hmm? Yeah, Melie?" He pulled himself away from the conflicted memory. Dave had given him pleasure as a man. He's seemed to enjoy Kurt's shorter hair, his flat chest. Despite how it had ended Kurt had felt like a real man in the moments they touched. Now if only he could get Dave to agree to a gag...

“You didn’t get softer at that guy because of some silly affection, did you?”

"Don't be ridiculous." Kurt scoffed. "I gouged the hell out of his prices. I'm not soft on him in the least!"

“Hm. Good.” She looked down at her plate. “You know the saying that every whore falls in love with one of her clients?”

"It's not happening to this whore. He might be good at sex but he's vile in mind. I'm not sure I've ever been quite as insulted and exasperated in a single session before." Kurt dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand.

Melanie took a sip of her tea. “Good that you have it in mind,” she said. “Because such stories never end well.”


	4. This is not Pretty Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** sex workers shaming, slut-shaming, transphobia, graphic mention of non-con, mention of child prostitution, homophobic language  
>  **AN:** This chapter requires understanding of what “corrective surgeries” are. The extra materials for chapter two covered this topic, but if you want to know more, read this article: [oiiusa.org/treatment](oiiusa.org/treatment)  
>  Basically, you need to know that they're meant to change physical appearance of intersex person to make their genitalia look more typically female or male. They are almost always performed without the consent of the intersex person (as they're usually performed on infants or kids), and sometimes even without the consent of their parents. They can be very damaging for person's health and sense of identity since the doctors make an arbitrary decision assigning a sex to that person.

There was no way to get any information. Except one. Dave knew what he could do- go to the source of all this mess and hope he'll meet some of the more talkative workmates of Kurt. He dressed up, took some of the money he had left in case he needed to buy their answers, and headed to the club.

The crappy techno music was just as deafeningly loud as the last two times. Dave stood by the entrance, scanning the crowded dance floor. He let himself immerse in the cacophonous mix of sounds, and get used to the noise. The small stage on which babydolls were supposed to be dancing was devoid of light. Dave figured it was too soon yet for the show. The better for him, he guess, since most of the girls were wandering around between tables, and carrying around drinks. If he didn’t get lucky with one, maybe he could find another. Although this whole thing was making him inexplicably nervous. He didn’t know much about the club’s rules, but he had a feeling that nosing around might be frowned upon. He made his way to the bar, bumping into pulsing to the trance-like rhythm bodies, and sat on one of the few free seats. A blond with tits that could swallow a man immediately slid beside him.

"Hello there, stud. You look a little anxious. Can I fetch you a drink?"

"Um. Hi." Dave turned to her. "Actually, a drink sounds great. Do you have a moment to talk?"

She smiled easily, bringing a drink and sitting herself right on his knee. "That so? Well, I'm all ears."

Dave frowned at her straightforwardness, but quickly forced his face to smooth. It wasn’t the time to think about himself. He shifted slightly, the proximity of the girl was making him a little uncomfortable. Those boobs couldn't be natural.

"I'm here to ask about someone. I'd appreciate your discretion." Dave took a sip of the drink before continuing. "Do you work with Elizabeth sometimes?"

Sherry tensed, but covered it swiftly with a smile. "Looking for a double act? I won't mind working with Liz. She's a doll."

"Yeah, no, thanks." Dave really didn't want to imagine himself in a bed with _her_. "I'm just curious, how is she?" He winced at the awkwardness of his investigation. "I mean, is she any good? Has experience?" _How long has he worked here? Tell me anything,_ Dave smiled at her encouragingly.

Sherry watched him closely as she answered, debating on calling the bouncer. "She's a special sort of ride, sweetheart. You don't seem the kind to want what she's offering."

"Hey, I'm just asking. How would you know what kind am I; we’re just getting to know each other, right?" Dave tried to ease the tensing atmosphere, feeling his chance to find out more about Kurt fleeting away. The girl didn't seem wiling to cooperate and he had a sneaking suspicion that all he'll find out today will be how much does it hurt to be thrown out by the bouncers.

"She's got some extra parts sweetheart. Dangling, if you catch my drift. But let's not talk about that." She started to kiss at his neck.

Dave's arm gripped her waist tighter. "So how about we talk about _Kurt_?"

"You've got three seconds to let go of me before I call the bouncer." Her manner changed in an instant. Sherry was now as far physically from him as his grip on her waist would allow. "Don't know how you learned that name but you can leave this damned instant. Not a single one of us girls are going to let you go all Jack the Ripper on Kurt."

Dave held his hand up in surrender and spurted in one breath, "I'm sorry, I'm not stalking him, I went to High School with him and everyone in Lima thinks he's dead, I'm sorry!"

"Whatever is his past, he's working here. Probably doesn't want a reunion with someone he knows. Would you?" She was fully off his lap at this point, arms crossed over her unnaturally pointy breasts.

Dave stared at her. What kind of question... Yes, of course he would. Why wouldn't he want to come back to his family and friends? Why would he choose staying in this place if he still had some past to come back to?

"Does he work today?" He asked, putting his hands down.

"Maybe, maybe not. Why?"

"I want to talk to him."

"You remember that one peep of distress and those bouncers will be on you. I'll get him." Sherry left Dave, walking behind a curtain.

\--------------------------

Kurt was in the dressing room adjusting his wig. It was the fourth time it had slipped tonight. He would need a haircut soon to keep his naturally thick hair from pushing the wig up from under the wig cap. The voice of his fellow dancer Sherry instantly brought him to glance up into the mirror at her.

"You've got a creep alert."

"Oh, wonderful. It's a sign, slipping wig foretells the coming of a stalker. What's this one like?" Kurt slipped in the final bobby pin and shook his head to check for security.

"He called you Kurt." Sherry leaned in, her eyes wide. "He's dressed way too nice for this place."

"I don't give out that name."

"Well, it's out. You should call the bouncer, no good comes of that kind."

"Oh, breathe, Sherry, it's fine. He's probably harmless."

There was only one man he could remember giving his real name to and should it be Dave he doubted he had anything to fear. Dave had a temper, that was clear, but he'd been an opportunity Kurt's stubborn nature had ruined. He could use a steady trick to get his fund back into a healthy green. Kurt straightened his dress and checked the mirror. Show time.

It took a few minutes before the black bob'd Kurt in a femme-fatale motif strutted to his table. Kurt smiled as he recognized the 'flower boy'. Kurt shifted his posture, his walk far more seductive than he would have normally chosen. He wasn't going to squander a second chance at playing up David's affections.

"David." Kurt purred.

"Hummel." Dave nonchalantly took a sip of his drink. "You won't believe what I discovered recently."

Kurt's seductive smile dropped instantly. His name... His real name. He hadn't heard it spoken out loud in years. His lease, his job, anything that he could be tracked by was in a false last name! Kurt's eyes darted around the room, searching for anyone close enough to overhear. That name was supposed to be long buried. He moved close to Dave and hissed. "Don't you dare say that name. How did you even find that out?”

"By pure accident." Dave shrugged. "You have really a nice voice, you know. Do you still sing?"

Kurt's bright eye darted, searching Dave's face for intent, for malice, for a damned reason to kill him and the secret he held. He had no idea how Dave found it all out but he needed to stop it this instant.

"No." He lied. "Come on, let's get in a VIP room." Kurt grabbed Dave's wrist, tugging him swiftly through the pulsing main floor. He instantly began to think out his plan. What could he offer to keep that information under wraps? He'd do anything to shut David up.

“Aw, shucks. I'd love to hear you sing in person.” Dave said closing the doors behind him. Dave could tell his words really got to Kurt. Good. He finally had the upper hand and wasn't going to let go of it easily.

"Shut your mouth." Kurt was no longer the soft seductive courtesan he'd played to get Dave's money and satisfy Dave's lusts. He was all fire and venom. "How did you find that out?"

"Whoa, easy. What's the rush? Let's have a sit." Dave said mockingly, gestured to the bed and went to sit there. "I think we should talk."

"What is it you want?" Kurt was not sitting. He was too on edge, too ready to fight and too tense waiting for whatever Dave was trying to get. This was the last thing he needed. He didn't have enough savings to switch strip clubs and cities to run from his past.

“What exactly do I want?" Dave scoffed. "I fucking wish I knew."

"Despite what you might think I don't exactly make a lot of money. You can't extort me that way."

Dave stiffened at Kurt's remark. "I'm not here to blackmail you for money, Jesus." _What the hell._ "Answers. I want answers. And also, I want you to contact your family. I can even drive you back to Lima, or buy you a ticket or whatever."

"You're not getting any of them. I am not calling home. " Kurt paced, his hand fluttering nervously at his cheek and lips. "What is this David? You find out my past and now what? You think you can tell me what to do with my life?"

"Yeah, well, what is it that you're doing with your life?" He waved his hand at the room, and the bed. _Whoring yourself_. He didn't want to end that thought, but the words were just waiting to escape. "You're obviously doing SO well that you don't need any help." He stood up and came to Kurt, taking a deep breath. He reached out to soothingly run his hand on his arm.

Kurt's eyes shut painfully tight. He did not want and did not need Dave telling him what to do with his life, or how bad it was. He turned up his nose at Dave's hand. "Get out. I don't want you looking down on me because you think you know better. Did it occur to you that there's a reason I'm not in contact with them?"

"Why are you doing this?” Dave frowned. “You're not like the futureless scum that normally works in places like this. You have a family that is still waiting for you to show up. I read about it. You have people who would gladly welcome you back and take care of you. How can you prefer this life from what I'm offering?”

He was taught to believe that sinners should be forgiven, but also, with help, put on the right track. Kurt was a fallen man and there was also no reason for his obstinacy, as far as Dave was concerned, therefore he should be grateful for the chance he was given. Dave felt his temper taking over and hissed before he could stop himself. “Are you that big of a cockslut that you can't get through a day without getting fucked by multiple guys?”

Kurt almost told Dave. Maybe it would stop the man from thinking that he could go back after what his father... After what happened. And then Dave went and said the rest. Kurt's eyes filled with tears, something that a client hadn't made him do in years. "Of course. You found my secret. Good for you. Get out since obviously this little cockslut isn't going to get money with his fucking. I don't need your sermon."

“What if they come visit you here? If by some mysterious accident they found out that you're alive and where you work...” Dave didn't even try to sound alluding, the intention of his words clear.

"Don't." Kurt snarled ready to swing at David. "DON'T YOU DARE!"

"Oh, so, you do care what they think after all." Dave said, pleased with himself for being able to add at least one detail to the complicated puzzle that was Kurt Hummel. "But not enough to put them out of their misery and at least tell them you're not dead. What’s your deal, huh?"

Kurt punched him. He reared back and punched Dave right across the jaw. "You bastard! Of course I care! I shouldn't but I do. How would you feel if I decided to track down your family and tell them you were a cock-sucking faggot who paid to bang guys who look like little boys!"

Dave's head recoiled in the back under the force of the punch. Damn, the guy was stronger than he looked. Dave grabbed his jaw, groaning in pain. He looked at Kurt, and chuckled, his eyes sliding down his body. "Oh, come on. You don't look like a little boy. I doubt they dress in a drag" He let his arms fall and took a step closer. "First of all, don't try to compare our lives. Second of all, I didn't track anyone down. I just... stumbled upon some information. Believe it or not, I'm not a stalker."

"It's a little hard to tell the difference from where I'm standing. How did you find out who I was? Look I'm not hurting anyone who didn't make sure I knew exactly how unwanted I was. So they think I'm dead. Fine. Better then knowing this. What do you want Dave? A free ride? Fine you have it." Kurt began to undress. Dave had him by the internal balls.

"No, Jesus, stop it," Dave grabbed Kurt's dress, not letting it slide on the floor, and pulled it back up on his shoulders.

His fingers brushed over the pale skin of Kurt’s arms, and Dave swallowed hard remembering their last time, the slide of slicked with sweat bodies, Kurt’s panting and his eyes, opened wide and so unbelievably green. He rested his hands on the other man’s shoulders, and looked up at him. The eyes were blue now, and Dave didn’t know if the were painted so by the gold lighting of the room or the anger he could feel resonating from Kurt’s body.

“I want you to be happy,” Dave said simply, and it was true.

Kurt stared up at Dave, searching for rhyme or reason to the madness spilling forth. David didn't make any sense! First he was using the knowledge like a weapon, then took the moral high ground, hurled the most hurtful of comments and now Dave was the victim? Kurt was in danger of emotional whiplash.

The realization threw Dave off the balance, and he stepped away from the man, breaking the eye contact. He came here for answers to questions that were beyond his understanding, and with an offer to help. How the hell did it all end like this, and since when did he _care_ about the hooker?

The silence stretched between them, until Dave said, smiling sadly. "Apparently you just can't stay out of my life. No matter how I try to forget about you. There I was, happily getting over you and my own best friend brought you back into my life."

"Leave then. Forget I exist, forget my name and forget that you came."

"But how? How am I supposed to do this? I can't leave knowing you're still in this place. I tried, for fuck's sake, but you just won't let me." Dave shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, just to keep them from reaching out to Kurt again.

"I am not doing anything to you! Stop projecting! If you went and found yourself an actual relationship you could stop idealizing a transaction and get out of my hair."

"A relationship won't magically make me immune to being constantly reminded of you. I probably won't be able to call my parents again without inching to ask them about your father. Do you even know that he married Hudson's mother?"

Kurt tensed again. He zipped back up his dress, making a point of keeping himself as calm as possible. "No. It's good he has her. I don't want to hear any more. We are done."

Dave searched memory for any events surrounding his former teammate’s home life, sensing a hole in Kurt's defense. "He had a heart attack couple years back. In my junior year. He's alive," he rushed to say seeing the look on Kurt's face.

Kurt could not breathe. A heart attack! His father had... The room spun and Kurt sunk down on the bed trying to regain his bearings. "Oh my god."

Dave cursed and dropped on the bed, embracing Kurt in his arms. That was a really cheap move, to bring in the old Hummel's health problems like that, but he was running out of things he could say to make Kurt open to his ideas. "Your dad is fine, they are taking a good care of him." He half-lied. He honestly had no idea how the old man was doing, but the last time Dave saw about him, he looked pretty okay.

Kurt couldn't care that at the moment that comfort came from a man he loathed. He couldn't care the touch came from a man who brought threats and curses. It was any shelter in a storm and Dave's broad arms were very, very cuddleable. He pressed into that comfort. "He's eating right? He was always terrible about fast foods even thought he was high risk. What if that's my fault? What if I did that to him?"

Dave pressed a soft kiss to Kurt's hair, thinking through his answer. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "I mean, the heart attack was about half a year after you run away. I don't think there was a particular reason for that." He mumbled, suddenly ashamed with his incognizance. He was always messing things up, but the third meeting with Kurt was at the top of his fuck ups. _That's what you get for being an impulsive ass,_ he thought and began to rock Kurt in his arms trying to do some damage control. "All I know is that contrary to what you said, you weren't unwanted. Even in my senior year I heard about how they were looking for you. I mean, I didn't know at that time who they were talking about. But yeah..."

Kurt was still breathing fast, his heart slamming in his ribcage. It was all too much. He had tried to move on, leave that past behind. "No. I left because I had to leave. Dave, I had to. I wasn't what he wanted and I never ever can be."

"What are you even talking about?" If Cheerleader's Championship winner with amazing voice is not what his father wanted, then he sure had high expectations, Dave thought to himself. He tensed. "Was it the gay thing?"

"Part of it. I think dad would have been happy if I had just been a girl." Kurt sighed, stiffening up a little in Dave's arms. "You've seen me.. what my oddity is. I'm both... neither. Not a girl or a boy. I've never actually been able fit properly in either."

"Oh. _That_." Dave didn't know what to say to this, because he kind of could understand Kurt's father’s disappointment. Just as he would understand if his dad was disappointed with him for being gay. It wasn’t something parents wish for their children.

"Well I doubt he'd be happy with you being a hooker, you know. Why can't you just get a normal job?"

"It's not glamorous but it's what I could do. If you know who I am then you know what age I ran away. Sophomore year." Kurt's chin jutted upward, his infamous pride cutting through the emotional upheaval. "Plus stop talking about it like it's some sort of shameful thing. I provide a service men are willing to pay for. I keep an apartment running, food on the table and keep myself fine. Here at least some men think my strangeness is interesting instead of something freakish."

Dave frowned, slowly digesting the information. It was a shameful profession, a one for degenerates and drop-outs. But put like that, prostitution sounded like a valid job. It confused him.

"Wait, so you're doing this since you were 16? That's child prostitution! That's illegal."

"And?" Kurt wiggled out of Dave's arms as the big man's censure returned. "What exactly is your point? Prostitution is illegal, period, regardless of age. And they paid more back then, once I learned what was a fair price," he amended with a bitter little smile. His true virginity hadn't even been sold for the real price. "It was easy to pretend I was a virgin."

"But... That's basically..." _Rape_. Dave stopped himself from going further. Kurt seemed less willing to cooperate if he felt judged. Although it was hard not to judge if he understood correctly and Kurt just admitted to losing virginity to one of his clients. "Okay, so you came to the big city thinking you can't be hired anywhere outside of nightclubs. But now? You can find another job. Go to community college, maybe."

"Stop it. Look I know what this is. You think you're the first client to try to show me a better way? To try to assuage their guilt? No, Dave. This is not Pretty Woman and you are not Richard Geer."

"Dude, please, of course I'm not Richard Geer. That guy is like, three times my age!" Dave grinned. "Also, the chick has nothing on you.” He nudged Kurt lightly. “We could be like, slightly more modern and a queerer version. You have to know that I'm not rich though. And I don't get what's so cool about opera. I can hardly understand what they're saying half the time."

Kurt was trying very hard not to crack a smile. "You don't exactly scream elegance."

"No shit, really? And there I thought my charming ways of butting myself into your life could fool you into thinking I'm a great catch." Dave smiled, but his face fell quickly after. He stared at the other man for a moment, before pulling out a dollar bill and a pen from his pocket. He wrote something down on it and folded in his hands.

"Yeah, well, I guess I didn't do any good here. If you don't want my help... just want to let you know that you can call me if you're in troubles or something." He held up the piece of paper with his phone number on it.

"Not the worst tip I've ever gotten." Kurt responded dryly. He'd once been handed a religious track about saving his soul after sitting on a man's knee and flirting for nearly an hour. He took the paper. "You know I'm not going to call you, right?"

Dave rubbed his neck, the old symptom of nervousness kicking in. "I... still don't understand. But if you don't want to. Then yeah. Whatever." He stood up and turned from Kurt. "Just so you know, I wouldn't really inform them about you. I mean, how would I explain meeting a male prostitute?" He walked to the door without looking back.

"That would be awkward." Kurt turned the paper over in his hand before finally deciding to keep it. He slipped it away inside of his bra. "Come on back if you have a little cash to spend." Kurt tried to recover the relationship. He could use the money a smitten client could bring him.

"No, thanks. I don't think I will.” Dave opened the door. The music poured into the room and almost drowned out his last words. “I'll try to take your advice about forgetting though. Maybe this time I won't fail at it so hard."

\-----------------------

FLASHBACK  
Mid Sophomore Year: Lima Ohio: Hummel Basement: Evening

"Dad, I left a note. I'm not alone." Kurt, the little pudge in his cheeks not yet chiseled away by growing year and days without food, wrapped an arm around Brittany Pierce's shoulder. Kurt hugged her to his side, as if her kisses had done anything to his arousal but make him wonder if Gaga would ever consider doing a fashion show with Cartier, because her neckline was just begging for some diamond accents. He shifted in the jean coveralls, hating how the cut did nothing for his trim waist. His sudden transformation from fashionista to stereotypical Midwestern man was worth it; it had to be worth it. He sang Mellencamp, had to down honey herbal tea to stop his vocal chords from protesting, acted butch, got himself a slutty girlfriend and sat through most of a ball game on his laptop. He needed to be the kind of son Burt wanted before he got replaced by Finn.

"I... can see that." Burt stared at Brittany. He held up the note cut off from some brown paper with gold accent on the edge. "I didn't think... you were serious about that.” He took couple steps further into the room. “You guys are together?"

"Of course we are. We were hoping to get some 'time' together." Kurt stood, his focus entirely on his father's reaction. This had to be good. He had to be happy now. "Looks like we have a lot in common, dad."

Burt eyed her warily. The girl was smiling at him, oblivious to the tension between the father and son. "Kurt. I don't think you're being fair."

Kurt was expecting praise. A gentle shoulder punch and a 'get em tiger.' Not... what was that, disappointment? "What do you mean?" What was he doing wrong this time!

Burt cleared his throat and stepped closer, clearly uncomfortable. "You know what I mean," he said looking at floor. "I think it's the time to say goodbye to your friend."

Kurt bit on his lip as he looked down too. Of course. The number one problem... his physical strangeness. He didn't understand why, but he wasn't exactly male or exactly female. His mom had told him he was different, unique and special. She had always made him feel like something magical, like a unicorn or a phoenix. The way his dad said that.. it made him feel like a freak. "Brittany, I'll see you at school tomorrow okay?"

The girl looked confused, but slid from the couch and went out. Burt followed her with concern in his eyes. He turned to his son, after hearing the door closing, and frown at him disapprovingly. "How can you be so inconsiderate, Kurt?"

"Inconsiderate? How am I being inconsiderate! We went out to diner and this is our second date." Despite Brittany's reputation, Kurt was treating her like a lady which had the added benefit of putting off physical touch for as long as he could.

"Kurt!" Burt raised his voice. "Don't play dumb with me, kid. You were hoping to get some _together time_ with her?!" He stopped and took a deep breath. He glanced at the closed doors and said, much calmer. "You can't just exhibit to people like that. Who knows who she might tell."

"Exhibit? I'm not planning to flash her dad." Kurt stilled, his eyes wide as he realized what his dad was talking about. "Because I'm only... mostly male. You think I shouldn't be with her?

Burt winced. "Look, I'm not saying that, maybe, let's say, after you grow up, someone will...maybe..." He stumbled upon words, and covered it with a cough. "My point is that you should be careful with that kind of stuff."

"Maybe. You mean when I grow up it might grow into something normal? Or that you don't think I should be with anyone because I'm a freak?" Kurt's voice was becoming more pitchy by the second.

Burt gave up on hoping Kurt’s physique would change with time. Sometimes the fate was cruel and people had to learn to live with whatever was being thrown their way.

"No, of course you can... be with someone. Some day. But what you implied, Kurt, you should think how it'd affect people if they found out. Her, for example. You want people to talk?"

"So.. because I would make her feel uncomfortable I should keep it to myself?" Kurt glared at his father, hurt overpowering his emotions. "You can't even look at me right now..."

Burt looked up and forced himself to keep up the eye contact for a moment. He really wished Meg was still with them. She had a hold on this... issue of Kurt's and would know better what to say. He should have paid more attention to that stuff when she was still alive, ask some questions. He never really got along with his son, but ever since Kurt entered teenage years, it was getting harder and harder. Burt was trying. But he didn’t know how to talk with his kid anymore.

"Is this some teenage revolt kind of thing? You want to stir the pot a little bit? To get some attention?"

"What! Obviously it doesn't do any good. I'll get attention no matter what when I'm myself from everyone but you. I can't get yours when I try to please you! I'm doomed!"

"You have my attention now, but you don't seem to listen! And that’s exactly what I’m talking about! Can you understand how worried I am by juvenile stunts like this? What's with those clothes, and bringing in girls? Be honest, Kurt. What is going on? Didn't you say you're gay?"

"Does it matter? Clearly I'm such a damned freak of nature I shouldn't attempt intimacy with anyone!" Kurt had never thought it mattered so much. He was different physically, he knew that, but he'd never had a reason or a chance to be physically intimate with anyone. As far as he could tell there wasn't as single other gay in Lima. He had been hoping that, when he found someone they wouldn't be bothered by it, it would be true love that made his partner blind. Kurt listened to his father. How could anyone want that if his own father thought he was a freak.

"I never said this!" Burt snapped. He shook his head in frustration and rubbed his eyes, the short conversation tiring him already. "You said you’re getting attention, the wrong kind.” He said, the angry red spreading on his cheeks. “What if they knew more? Kurt, you have to be careful because of your condition."

“Vagina."

Burt sighed. "Yes. That." He scratched his forehead, completely at loss about what he should add to get through to his kid.

"You can't even say it." Kurt's voice wasn't angry any longer. His father thought he was a freak. He couldn't even say what it was. Kurt had both, the feminine and masculine in his body. "I have a vagina, dad. Say it!"

"Jesus Christ." Burt turned his head to look at the closed doors. "Yeah, yeah, you have a vagina, there, happy? I don't have any problems with saying the damn word," he gritted through his teeth. Why Kurt would want to put him in such embarrassing position, he didn't understand. "You know, I wish your mom was still with us." He waved towards Kurt's clothes. "Maybe she could take care of it all, help you choose what do you want to be known as. Because god knows I don't know how."

"She can't magic this away." Kurt tensed, his thin arms wrapping around his torso. He could feel his tears welled up. "I'm a boy. I like being a boy! I know that's really confusing for you," he huffed.

Burt adverted his eyes and winced. "Maybe it's a little bit confusing for you too."

"I'm not confused. I'm male. You..." Kurt's eyes went wide and this time the tears did come down. "You want me to be a girl... All this..." Kurt's hand waved to the coveralls and the horrific red and white checkered plaid shirt he wore. "This was the wrong thing, wasn't it?"

Burt kept his eyes downcast. "Kurt. I just thought... That way life would be easier for you." He continued with a distant look in his eyes, reminiscing the bittersweet memories of Kurt’s birth. “The doctor said your body was so easy to correct. They would quickly get it over and done with, but your mother was damn stubborn about leaving it how it is. So irresponsible. The doctor... I should have... should have reason with her."

"I'm not broken. There's nothing to correct! Mom always said it was natural that there wasn't anything wrong with me! But there is isn't there? You wish I was a girl... You wish they had made me one." Kurt shook his head, tears falling. "C..can you go away right now?"

"I wish you to be happy!" Burt’s voice broke and he stepped closer, hating the tears in his child's eyes.

"GO AWAY!"

"Kurt, just listen to me for once!"

"No! I heard you fine! I'm never going to be enough for you! I'm not a girl I'm never going to be no matter what this body is or isn't!"

"Good, then at least act like a boy instead!"

"Like this?" Kurt motioned to the horrific jean jumper and plaid shirt. He grabbed the ball cap off his head and threw it at his father.

Burt let the cap hit him in the chest and fall to the ground. "Like _a gay boy_. Don’t bring in girls when you feel like sending me a message!"

"I am exhausted by your expectations of me! I'm going to Mercedes' house!"

Burt scoffed. "You're the exhausted one here, huh? You know what is exhausting too? Coming home not knowing what your kid is today. Gay, straight, in flannel or Doc Marty."

"Doc Martins is the brand!" Kurt instantly corrected. He grabbed his black and white fringed jacket and his car keys. His heavy steps pounded up the basement bedroom staircase. As he got to the top he ran, through the living room out to the street. He threw himself in his car and drove. The rain blurred his vision. Or perhaps it was his tears.

\----------------------------------------------------  
MODERN DAY

Kurt didn't look at the number Dave gave him that night. He didn't look at it the next week. He didn't even glance at it. He did however think about it. Kurt's mind was on the number, the small connection to his past that he never saw coming. He found himself standing, lost in the painful flashes of his past. His mind replayed that fight, the last words with his father burned his mind. He must have etched the words into his heart those first few months on the road. Kurt had cried, shuddered in the backseat of a stranger's truck with his thighs bloody for the price of the ride and thought of that fight. It was better he stayed gone. His father hadn't really wanted him then and he certainly wouldn't want him now.

Kurt didn't want to call, but he wanted to know about what happened after he left. The dollar had somehow ended tacked with a magnet up on the fridge. Each day he walked past it, wondering. It was near two weeks before he called. He needed to know if what David had said was true. He made the call all the way from New York to Ohio, swallowing the long distance charges.

"Hello?" Burt's rough greeting sounded exactly the same as it always had. Kurt glanced at the clock, 2pm. Dad was probably at the shop working away under the cars, his thick fingers smearing oil and grease over the receiver of the phone. The smell of oil and engine exhaust flooded through him, making tears prick at his eyes.

"Hello?" Burt's voice took on the edge of irritation it gained anytime someone pulled him from his work for no reason. Kurt had to cover his mouth to keep in the sob. Burt would grumble and return to whatever Ford model car had him entranced. He'd work on it late into the night if no one stopped him. Kurt would have come home from school at about 5 and started diner. He'd call the shop and inform Burt in no uncertain terms he would be home to enjoy. Kurt wasn't there anymore....

"Damn prank calls." The phone line went dead. Kurt wasn't there to take care of Burt but that didn't matter. His father had a wife. Burt had never even considered dating when Kurt was there. He'd had to force the interaction between Finn's mother and his father. He'd prodded and encouraged and orchestrated the entire courting process. Maybe... Maybe Burt hadn't dated because of Kurt. Maybe he didn't want to bring a woman into his life only to be humiliated by his freak of a son.

"If you would like to make a call please hand up and try your call again." The metallic female voice informed him of the loss of connection. It was like losing his home all over again.

Kurt cried for what felt like years and called out of work for a day. He swallowed the loss of income, 2 sleeping pills and let himself run from the pain.


	5. Home Sweet Hovel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings this chapter** : graphic mentions of violence and past non-con, sex worker shaming, use of de-humanizing pro-noun.

Dave was doing well.

The first thing he had done after coming home from the third meeting with Kurt, was clearing up his browser history. The next step was deleting all the carefully tracked pieces of information about Kurt’s former life from his hard drive. Clearing up his memory was harder, but he was slowly dealing with it too.

Bullshit.

He still thought about Kurt.

Sometimes, he even let himself think about all of their encounters. Sometimes, the need to throw a jacket over his shoulders, grab the rest of his savings and run to the club again, was becoming unbearable. Dave would jerk off until he was sore, and drink himself to sleep, to cut off any possibility of doing something stupid. Like giving in the need to see Kurt.

He was not going there again, he swore himself. Kurt was doing fine. For a prostitute, that is.

\--------------------

Kurt wasn't expecting Dave to wander back in. Even so, now and again there would be a guy with Dave's build passing by and Kurt would catch himself wondering is it was the other man. So far Dave hadn't shown.

Kurt found himself with a bad client, one that didn't like what was under his skirt. That one had to be thrown completely out of the club.

When the hospital told him he'd have to go under anesthesia for them to stitch up the internal damage the bastard had caused, he could barely understand the questions being addressed at him through the pain. The only number Kurt had on him was scrawled on the back of a dollar bill. He wasn't aware they'd call Dave to pick him up.

\-------------------

The number displayed on Dave’s phone was unknown. The thing vibrated on his desk, drawing him from the lecture. He looked up, annoyed, and grabbed it with intention to turn off the sound. He thought better of it though, and picked up, deciding to give a piece of his mind to the prick who was interrupting his studying ten hours before the exam, surely to ask for notes or some shit. The “friends” always knew how to find him. When they needed.

Dave pressed the device to his ear. The moment later he was out the door.

\-------------------

The nurse David was directed to looked him over with an severe eye. She was a woman with deep lines that never seemed to see a smile in her life. "You're the contact? Typical. It's in room 213. Go on in. Don't let it drive for the next 24 hours."

Dave threw her a nasty look. " _It_? The guy's after a surgery and you can't fucking treat him like a human?" He gritted his teeth. She ignored him completely which only made him want to say more. But he had a job to do, and no time for some joke of a nurse. He huffed, opening the doors to a hospital room.

Kurt was groggy, covered in a pale robe that did nothing to his already pale skin-tone. He was curled on one side absently watching the open and close of his own fingers as a way to pass time. He didn't exactly have anyone able to spare time to bring him a book or magazine or his own clothing.

Dave stood awkwardly by the doors for a moment, not sure if he’s allowed to interrupt the silent standstill of a hospital room. He closed the doors quietly and slowly came up to the bed. The man laying on it looked so fragile and small. "Are you asleep?" Dave asked quietly.

"No... not really." Kurt's voice was soft, distant from the reality before him. He looked up, blue eyes faded to a dull gray, unfocused. "David? This isn't the club."

"Yeah. Definitely not.”Dave said. “Not nearly enough half naked people around. Although on my way I saw some old man in the corridor pulling down his pants." He tried to joke, but it felt flat. Dave sighed. Kurt looked barely conscious. "Can I take you home?"

"Oh, no, mister." Kurt tried to be flirtatious, but the tone didn't match the lethargy of his motions. "I don't go home with men. I'm not the kind of boy you take home to mother."

Dave smiled. "I think that's not up for discussion today, Kurt. Can you stand up on your own?"

"Sure." Kurt slid out of the bed, wincing as he stood a bit unsteady. He didn't reach for Dave as he wobbled, too used to not having anyone.

The man looked dizzy, and exhausted, and Dave didn't even know what the hell happened to cause all of it. Kurt lost his balance and Dave grabbed him by the elbow. He wrapped his arm around the thin waist. "You have your clothes here? We have to get you dressed."

"My bag... I made them bring it. It's on the chair over there." He waved weakly to where a messenger bag sat. It held a pair of black yoga pants and a long women's cut gray and black sweater.

Dave carefully placed Kurt's hand on the bed, so he could shore himself, and reached out for the bag. He pulled out the clothing and put the pants on the ground. "Lift your right leg, please."

The dressing went agonizingly slow, but Kurt was surprisingly patient through the whole process. He took Dave's attempts to put the sweater on backward as endearing, giggling tiredly as he whispered the correction. Finally, he was ready to go. The nurse brought the wheelchair and insisted he use it. After a weak fight he sat and instantly let out a hiss of pain.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Dave leaned in over his shoulder. "Dude, you already look kind of stoned, I don't know how many painkillers more you can take." He rolled the wheelchair out of the room and headed in the direction of reception.

"Fine. I can deal. Just need not to be sitting."

Kurt was handed over the discharge papers, which he signed and handed back. He would get the bill in the mail in a week. Great, more bills and a half day of work gone. He sighed and leaned back in the chair, letting his mind wander away from the worry. He could hardly focus on a single thought.

Dave steered the wheelchair towards his car. He helped Kurt settle in and buckle. He drove the wheelchair back to the entrance of the building and gave it to one of the staff members with a quick nod.

Dave sat behind the wheel and sighed, leaning back on the seat. "Where do you live, Kurt?" He asked quietly.

Kurt gave an address and fuzzy directions. He shifted in his seat continually as they made their way into the dark side of town. Dave peeked in his rear view mirror every now and then. Kurt looked like he was falling asleep and waking up every couple minutes. Dave sighed and focused on the road. The neighborhood they were getting into didn't look especially inviting. He wished he could just take Kurt to his dorm room, but he had no idea how his roommate would react. All he could do was stay with Kurt and take care of him until he sobered up from all the medications.

The car stopped before an unkempt looking building. It was faded structure, probably built back in the 1940's. The red brick had been weather tarnished to a dull brown. Unsteady looking metal stairs served a connecting balconies between the upper 6 floors. More than one window was patched with cardboard. The bottom floor was marked up with bright graffiti. This wasn't the more artistic kind, instead it was crude and clearly territorial markings. The bare lot to the east had once been an identical structure, but it was now a wasteland of broken and stripped cars.

"Home sweet hovel." Kurt quipped like he always did when he had a companion. Usually his room mate. He let Dave help him out of the car. The stairway was narrow and the whole building was in a state of disrepair. There was a leaking coming from the ceiling and the door stuck when Kurt turned his key. The inside of Kurt's apartment was significantly nicer. Kurt's fashion sense still shown through the artistic color scheme and the clever ways of hiding the stains on the walls.

Dave ended the quick look around and came further into the apartment. On the wall opposite to the entrance, were two doors, probably leading to separate rooms. Dave let Kurt sunk down on the chair in the small kitchen annexe. "Do you want something to drink? Or eat?"

"I think I have some casserole from last night in a Tupperware." He waved Dave toward the meticulously cleaned and organized kitchenette.

Dave opened the fridge and looked around. Casserole in a Tupperware. His eyes caught the sight of the meal and he pulled it out on the table top. He unscrewed the lid and looked around in the drawers for some dishes. The meal finally being on the plate, he put it into a microwave and pressed the buttons. Nothing. The device completely ignored him.

Kurt heard Dave fighting with the microwave and sighed. "You have to shove the wooden spoon in the latch."

Dave raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. After some more struggling, the microwave finally worked and he could put a steaming plate before Kurt. He rumored through drawers once again and came up with a fork. He stabbed the piece of chicken with it and held it up before Kurt's mouth. "Say aaaah," he smirked.

"I'm not a child." But Kurt was smiling ever so softly and opened his mouth.

The top of utensil disappeared in the other man's mouth and Dave withdraw it slowly. He fed Kurt without any rush and it made him feel... good. Which was stupid. But he liked the intimacy of taking care of the other man. "You kind of are sometimes. To get into a fight with a client? He didn't want to pay or what? Don't you have bouncers to deal with that kind of shit?"

Kurt was too tired to fight the enjoyment. He hadn't been cared for since before this place. He knew the questions would come. He was full and tired and happy. Why did he have to answer? "He was drunk and... he didn't like what I had to offer."

Dave frowned at him in confusion. "The hospital lady who called me... She said "tussle in a night club" and "internal bleeding", and asked if I’m your emergency contact, so..." He faltered seeing Kurt's blank expression. "What did really happen?"

Kurt relayed the information as if reading a set of directions, detached. "He paid for the full VIP, we were getting into the full.... he didn't like what he found. He decided to let me know exactly how much he disliked it... by demonstrating. He ripped me within. Before the bouncer could reach me. Hard to cry out when your mouth is covered."

Dave straightened abruptly from his half-hunched position he was feeding Kurt in. “Are you saying that you were,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “raped?” He put the fork on the table and noticed his hand is trembling with restrained anger. “What the hell, Kurt? Why didn't you said anything in the hospital?” He growled. “We have to go to the police!”

"And tell them what? The man who paid me to have sex with him raped me? I would be slapped with prostitution and made a laughing stock." Kurt sighed, exhausted. "It happens... Nothing new."

"But... but..." Dave tried to continue but realized he has nothing helpful to say. He leaned back on the chair, feeling inadequate and useless. "How do you deal with it so easily?"

Kurt smiled wanly. "Experience," he sighed not able to explain to Dave. "The first time was the worst. I actually believed he cared for me."

"You mean you got used to this?" Dave swallowed the unsettling feeling. "You don't deserve any of this. No one does." He mumbled. He wished he could find every fucker who did this to Kurt and beat him senseless.

"No one deserves bad things to happen to them. But they do. You live and go on." Kurt shrugged lightly, his eyes contained far more years then his youthful image would betray. "I'm tired, David."

Dave stared at him for a moment. "Do you want to me to set a bath for you? Or just get you to your bed?" He said finally.

"Bed..." Kurt reached out his arms to Dave, feeling selfish and needing of just a few more moments with the man who was sure to leave and never look back faced with the darker reality of this life.

Dave held Kurt by the waist and help him walk for a couple steps, but then he swept him off and carried the rest of the space. Kurt was light, too light, for a grown up man. Dave was not some crybaby. He was most definitely not about to sob like a little girl over some whore who would never look at him twice if he wasn’t a client. He winced. It hurt. The helplessness, the utter lack of knowing what to do to make things better. He opened the door on the left, successfully guessing it's the right room and laid Kurt on the bed. "Do you need to drive somewhere in the morning? Because that one bitch in the hospital said you can't."

"I can get Melanie to pick me up food when she gets off of her second job." He didn't want to expect Dave to keep taking care of him. It wasn't going to last. He groaned as he adjusted himself in the covers. "Stay until I fall asleep?"

"Sure." The answer came a little too fast, but well. Dave expected to be thrown out the moment Kurt stopped needing him. He unceremoniously packed himself under the cover and protectively wrapped and arm over Kurt's torso. He knew he was overstepping, but he had only couple more minutes with the other man. Might as well use them well. "Sleep well."

Kurt smiled gently. Well well... He would enjoy this moment... this memory. He fell to sleep listening to the solid steady beat of David's heart.

Dave laid in the darkness thinking through everything he learned that day, until he felt Kurt relaxing against him, his breathing becoming more steady. A sign that it was time to get up and leave. He hid his face in the crook of Kurt's neck. He wished he could stay, but Kurt didn't need Dave to upset him more. Dave had done enough of it already. He felt tired and Kurt's body was so warm. _I have to get up_ , he thought distantly.

The heaviness of that day's events crashed on him and he fell asleep embracing the other man.


	6. The Man of The House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** victim blaming, graphic mentions of non-con, cissexism

Kurt woke, the alarm clock blared with Lady Gaga's Bad Romance for an alarm. The irritatingly appropriate song was finally cut out as he glanced back at the big warm thing that have been wrapped around his thin body. Kurt wouldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He inched closer as if Dave would suddenly disappear.

Dave's eyes snapped open as the song drilled itself into his mind. He always had slow reaction span in the mornings, but this time he registered that some things were out of place. Still half asleep, he looked around the foreign surroundings and dropped his head back on the pillow. He focused on the body lying next to him and tensed, the memories of yesterday coming back to him. "G'morning " He said carefully.

"You fell asleep." Kurt was not in the mood for greetings. What ever spell had been cast over last night's interaction was gone and the steely courtesan was back.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Dave smiled sheepishly. "How do you feel?"

"A bit tired." Kurt answered abruptly, the morning light did not cast a positive image on this. He'd taken a client home, no matter the why or hows it was dangerous.

“Well, how about you stay in bed then" Dave said, fumbling himself from under the covers, "and I'll make you some breakfast?"

“No. It's best if you leave." Kurt winced as he was forced to his ass in order to stand up from the bed edge with any sort of dignity.

"Oh. Yeah. Okay. I'm sorry. I should have left yesterday." Dave murmured, smoothing out his crumpled shirt. "But are you sure you don't need anything?" He tried one last time.

Kurt wasn't about to ask Dave for a single thing. He was fine alone. Exactly as he was! He kept himself completely stiff. "I'm going to shower and rest. I don't need you hovering around."

"Okay. I got the message, Mr Do-It-Himself.” Dave snarked, his temper showing again. “You just had a surgery and can barely sit without wincing but you don't need any help." He turned around walked out of the room looking behind, and almost bumped into a 20-something girl in a wore out top and with blonde hair combed into a high ponytail. “Sorry. Um. Hi. I was just leaving.” He tried to pass her by.

"Hold it right there!" Melanie gasped, her eyes darting all over Dave's body to take in all the details her gossipy heart craved. "You just came from Kurt's room. Oh my God, he finally got a boyfriend!"

Dave blushed and stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm not his... we're not... I was just... having a sleepover?" He looked at her hoping the topic would be abandoned. He wasn't sure if he can talk with other people about what happened yesterday. He wouldn't want his friends to know about... being raped. He shifted uncomfortably under her stare.

“Bullshit. You're his boyfriend. About time too. But it's early. You better be going out to get him food. You do know that otherwise he won't eat until diner right? "

Dave sighed and decided to let her think what she wants. He ignored the fluttery feeling that rose in his stomach when he thought about being recognize as Kurt's -however fake- boyfriend. "He doesn't want me to. And I need to get out before he’ll see I'm still here, so... it was nice to meet you and such." He attempted to get to the door once again.

"What? So you're not his man? Are you straight?"

“No, I'm gay.” Dave scoffed and froze, his eyes widening in fear for a second. That was the first time he said those words to other person. Not 'I might be a homo', not ‘I’m more on the faggy side'. “I’m gay,” he repeated gaping at the girl. The coming out stuff didn't seem so scary this moment.

He looked back at the closed doors of Kurt's room. “Can I ask for a favor? Look after him today, would you? And make sure he won't drive until about 9 pm.” His stomach rumbled, loudly announcing his hunger to the word and Dave cursed mentally, his cheeks reddening slightly out off embarrassment.

She laughed lightly. "Here's a little in-side track info for you just because you're hot and seem to give a shit. Here's what you do. You get food, you bring it back for princess and then you watch him. He's never going to obey and you should know that, but it will save you from his shrillest of tones."

"Okay. But if he throws a tantrum, you're to blame." Dave smiled reluctantly. "Do you have some shops around here? I didn't really focus on the road yesterday."

"Jewish Deli about three blocks away. Get him a bagel and lox. And a pulp-filled orange juice." She winked at him

"Will do." Dave nodded and walked out the door. Not having a hurt Kurt on his backseat, he was able to look around while driving.

The surroundings of the house Kurt was living in looked like cut off from a 90's movie about some post-soviet country. The scenery was dominated by gray: gray buildings, pavements. And gray people. He made his way back quick, anxious about Kurt's reaction.

Kurt was showered and awake with a cup of coffee. He was much calmer if still in pain. He wasn't expecting Dave but he just groaned in mild irritation. "You're back."

"Yeah". Dave smiled and put the groceries in front of Kurt. "Your roommate invited me. So, breakfast?" He asked, and not waiting for an answer, started unpacking the bought food.

"What did you..." He picked up his perfectly made bagel and smiled. "You got the right food... now for the drink." Another perfect match. "Oh, you're good."

“I might have some help with picking up those." Dave smiled sitting next to Kurt. He took one of the bagels and bit into it. "So, I was deputed to take care of you today," he said before swallowing.

"Melanie's dead. HEAR THAT MEL!" Kurt shouted toward the hallway. A light laughter came back with a "He's cute!"

"Did you hear that? I'm cute. How about that?" Dave smirked.

"I wouldn't trust her. She thinks Jim Beaver, Bobby Singer from Supernatural is cute."

“So she's into the burly ones." Dave took Kurt's cup and, feigning nonchalance, sipped his coffee. "I take it they're not your type?"

"I like my men clean shaven." He raised an eyebrow but nibbled at his breakfast.

"Gotta keep that in mind." Dave said, surprising himself with his boldness. He put the cup down on the table with a loud thud. "I-I didn't mean it like you'd consider... I know that you wouldn't... I mean..."

"I don't and I won't." Kurt immediately informed him.

"Good." Dave was quick to answer. _Can't say the same about me._ He stood up and turned around to put his plate in the sink. He folded his arms on his chest defensively and looked back at Kurt. "So what do you want to do today? You called in sick to work, right?"

"I told you to leave. I'm telling you to leave again." Kurt then tipped the juice up and down his throat.

"You're not used to having a man in the house who doesn't want to molest you for money, huh?"

"In case your Cro-Magnon head didn't remember. I am the man of the house."

"I'm not questioning it." He shrugged. "All I'm saying is that you're so damn scared of letting anyone take care of you, it's ridiculous."

"How is that ridiculous!" Kurt snarled, arms crossed. "I can only rely on myself. It's a lesson hard learned."

"Oh, yeah? You're full of shit. You liked when I stayed with you yesterday, and you liked that I bought you breakfast. It won't hurt if you just admit it for once."

"I won't be able to give you 'one on the house' for a few weeks." Kurt was still tired, hazy from the meds he had to take this morning. Kurt did not want to deal with all of the conflicting emotions that Dave stirred up. The strong protective arms encircling him this morning were still a memory on his skin.

"What do you mean?" Dave frowned. The moment the question was out of his mouth, he understood. "Jesus fucking Christ." He pushed the chair away abruptly and dropped on it. Kurt flinched at the violent reaction. Dave flattened his hands on the table and said, "Let's get some things straight. One. I'm not going to fuck you again. Ever again. Two..." He gritted his teeth. Good to know Kurt had such a high opinion of him. "I don't expect any sort of... payment from you for the help. Got it?"

Kurt tilted his neck at that and reformed his perfect bitch-face. "Everyone wants something Dave. Maybe you don't want sex any longer.” He figured Dave wouldn't after he found out what happened to land him hospitalized. ”But you want something."

Dave hid his head in his hands and vehemently chafed his hair, groaning. He looked up at Kurt and said. "If I'm saying I don't want anything, there's a fair chance I mean it. Why can't you just accept it?"

"You'll go bald if you do that. " He sighed at Dave. "Look. Just tell me what you want I'll tell you if the exchange is worth it."

"I might as well be bald, who cares." Dave rubbed his forehead. "Will you do it? What I ask?"

"Maybe, if it's worth it." Worth a big caring man who brings him breakfast and takes care of him without asking for sex.... Not that Kurt quite believed Dave, but it was a pretty dream to entertain for the moment. Come tomorrow Kurt would blame it on the meds that he even entertained the idea.

Dave looked him in the eyes. "Just... Be more careful. Don't agree to a VIP room if the guy's drunk. Stuff like that. I don't want to see you getting hurt again."

"Problem 1: My industry runs on drunk guys and loose bills." Kurt caught himself actually considering it... until he realized the requests were either a cop-out or an underhanded irritation at being involved again. "That's not something for you. Look I won't put your info down again. I don't know what possessed me. I won't inconvenience you again."

Dave bumped his head on the table. He murmured a curse into the flat surface and straightened up again. "You're really fucking difficult to negotiate with, you know." He glared at the man before him. "I don't know what else can I say to convince you that I care about you. I care and that's it. There's nothing written in small letters. I don't have an agenda here and you're not a fucking inconvenience."

"Why! I'm just some whore that wouldn't back down from you. I don't understand how you can possibly care for someone like me."

Dave leaned back on the chair. "Is it really what you think? About yourself? You're not worth even some creep like me caring about you?"

Kurt pressed both lips into a thin line. He looked down his nose at Dave. "I'm not going to stop working."

"Okay." Baby steps. "But you will limit the VIP room time."

Kurt gritted his teeth. "I usually only .. I don't do VIP if I don't need to fill gaps."

"What gaps? Like, work instead of other girls?"

"Sometimes. Mostly it's to cover money gaps. I took your little birthday trick because my roommate moved out leaving me with rent to pay that was double normal."

"Oh. Yeah. That." Dave slouched a little at the memory. "Well can't you get some day job, so you wouldn't need to do it?"

"I have one." Kurt growled. "Are you done? Any more suggestions for how you want me to live my life?"

Dave smirked suddenly. "Actually, I have couple more. First of all, your coffee tastes terrible."

Kurt fought the smallest of grins. "Not my choice I assure you."

"So Melanie does have some flaws after all." Dave smiled at him.

"You could write a book. Have you seen the way she dresses? I keep telling her that autumn is not her color season but she never listens."

"I think she looked nice. Casual." Dave chuckled. "I'm sure you have a field day mentally criticizing my clothes." He leaned in over the table. "Come on, don't hold it in."

Kurt offered him a look that clearly called him an idiot, again. "Open season. Let's start with your basic sense. Shirt, over-shirt, jeans. It's overdone, tacky and screams lack of creativity or perhaps mamma's boy. Your pants are baggy, obscuring any and all benefit from your large calves. Next your inner-shirt is white and your outer is plaid, an actual plaid. That pattern is only for kilts and skirts. Next there's that cap. The baseball hat brim obscures far too much of your eyes."

Dave bit his bottom lip, grinning. Kurt was so damn cute when he ranted like that. There was a passion hiding in those unbelievable, blue eyes. "You sound pretty cognizant. Have you ever thought of being a designer?"

"I... have. I sew. Less then I once did. I act, sing... every skill that's useless in the practical world."

"The practical world would be pretty fucking boring without the arts though." He said. There was so much more to this man than what he originally assumed. Dave thought that finding out more about the prostitute will eventually gratify his thirst for details. How foolish of him. He couldn't have predicted that every new information aroused two new questions. "I'm pretty sure you could make some serious money with that voice of yours though."

Kurt let the barest touch of a smile graze him. He did still believe in his dreams, just a little. Without hope he'd have sunk even further, into drink or drugs like the other girls had. "I used to think so. Unfortunately my voice... is not what people want." Story of his life. He was unique and special and had so many talents. "The problem with being one of a kind is that there aren't any parts for you. There aren't any roles or scripts or lines for someone so off the norm."

Dave almost hopped in his chair. "You could do this. Kurt, you're spectacular and so gifted and..." He stopped the outburst abruptly, his cheeks reddening. Dave cleared his throat and looking down. "I mean. You're pretty good I guess."

Kurt licked his lips, the eagerness in Dave's voice... it was like a siren song. He hadn't had anyone supporting his creativity since he left Lima. For a moment he wanted it so badly his chest went tight. Kurt forced himself to wave Dave's comment away. It was a dream. To be the person to make something so amazing it's plucked out of the mire. The hope refused to let him go.

"I.. I am still trying to take classes. They have half priced instruction at the junior college once a year that I get to attend... "

Dave smiled. "That sounds like a good start." He waited for Kurt to scold him, roll his eyes and seek for some underlying meaning of his enthusiasm. But so far he was met with none of those. "So... Can I count on private performance?"

"Trying to buy a songbird?" Kurt was snapping back, but the hope was fluttering in his throat. He wanted to sing again, for an audience. He wanted the dreams of Broadway. It's why despite the rent and the job and the horrible neighborhood he stayed close to Broadway.

"I kind of counted on listening to you for free. You know, use the chance before you get famous and I won't be able to afford tickets." Dave grinned.

"Flatterer." Kurt chastised with a very soft chuckle. He gathered up the trash from their breakfast, not even thinking Dave would be more than happy to help. "I should probably lay back down. Used to be when I was sick I'd spend all day in bed with the latest vogue and watch Gone with the Wind."

"Eh, I could go without that movie. Any chance you have something filmed after 1940?" Dave stood up as well, and followed Kurt to his room.

"Heathen." Kurt supplied looking properly offended. "I think I have a DVD of the film production of Wicked."

Dave suppressed a groan. A romance or a musical. What a fantastic choice. "Yeah, that. We can watch it." There's no reason to anger Kurt and mess with the delicate armistice they seemed to have gained.

Kurt's brain was focused on the stage, the future, a glowing golden road of possibility all waiting for him. He found the movie, well worn and loved. Dave was already sitting on the bed waiting for Kurt to find the DVD.

The smaller male slid it into the old dvd-tv. It had a patch of dead pixels in the upper left corner of the screen, but it had been left in the dumpster behind work and actually worked! The opening sequence began as Kurt gathered a pillow to lay delicately on his stomach to watch. "Don't try anything mister." The threat was just a shade playful.

"Dude, I have a bunch of weirdly dressed freaks dancing and singing around, why do you think my attention would be focused on you?" Dave joked weekly, hyper aware of the other man lying right next to him, his perfect little ass up in the air, as if displayed just to derail Dave's thoughts onto forbidden territory.

Kurt slapped what he could reach of David. "It's a beautiful story about overcoming a world that doesn't understand you. Don't be a cad."

"Excuse you. I'm proud of my neanderthal ways. It's an inherent part of me, and I'm deeply hurt by your intolerance right now."

Kurt giggled, actually letting a high peal of laughter shake through him. His smile glowed at this easy friendship. "You must have some redeeming quality."

"Here you go again with your prejudice against us, culturally-disabled people, assuming I need to atone for being savage. But just so you know, I'm a man of many talents. Albeit they're very well hidden. Sometimes too deep even for me to find." Dave smiled broadly down at Kurt. He could do this. He could stay friends with him and squish the... less than platonic wantings.

“Well look at me being all bigotty. I suppose I'll have to accept your lack of culture. I warn you now however I am quite classy and you may change via association."

Dave gasped out loud and splayed hand on his chest in mock offense. "NO! Why would you do this to a person?! Please have mercy on me. I'll do everything!"

"Hmm. Well I do have a bathroom that needs to be scrubbed and a pile of laundry to be washed. Not sure if I trust a neanderthal with my delicates."

Dave groaned. "Damn it. What I got myself into?" Dave cackled. "You sure can trust me. I mean, washing can't be that difficult. Just throw the stuff into the machine and fill with the with washing powder, right? I can do that much."

"You understand nothing." Kurt sighed dramatically. He smirked as he watched the film. He began to very softly hum with the movie.

It was really hard to grasp the plot of the musical. Not with Kurt so close to him, softly singing along with the actors. Dave sighed and tried to focus his attention on the screen. There were two chicks. A popular and an underdog. They were obviously from two different words and yet because of... something Dave missed, they ended up rooming together. Dave was pretty sure they are going to grow closer. Galinda could learn from Ephaba about inner strength and awake the considerate part of the spoiled little girl. And Ephaba could use a friend. Someone who would tell her she's pretty awesome, even if the world deemed her a freak. Then they could have a breakfast and banter about coffee. Fuck. There was no escape from thinking about Kurt and him.

Kurt knew the story by heart. He fancied himself as a much more fashionable Elphie. A freak to the world who never let them stop her. He and the pain medicine had slipped off into a world of joy and music and green girls. He slept with his foot lightly pressed against Dave's side.

Kurt's breathing quieted and his soft singing trailed off. Dave looked over at the other man and smiled fondly, seeing that he felt asleep with his mouth gaping a little. He turned off video. Gingerly, he slipped the blanket from under Kurt and covered him with it. Dave sat still for a while, just watching the other man sleeping. A lock of hair slid on Kurt's forehead and Dave combed it back. His hand hovered over the man's face for a second, inching to feel the soft skin again, but he took it away, scared of waking Kurt up. Then he laid behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist. Dave laid like that, incapable of falling asleep.

~~~

Melanie tapped on the door a few hours later. She looked in to see the still snoozing Kurt and shook her head. "I'm off to work, boys. When Kurt is up tell him John said he has floor shift until Saturday."

"Okay, sure. Have a nice day." Dave whispered. "Should I wake him up at some time?"

"His anti-biotics are probably 3 times a day so wake him for that. Best idea is to let him rest. After what happened he's just going to be exhausted and depressed."

Dave tensed. "You... know?" He still didn't get over the fact that abuse was treated as a expected part of life on this side of the city.

"The girls told me before I came home in case he got worse." She smiled a bit sadly.

Dave nodded in acknowledgment. He looked at Kurt, making sure the man was still asleep. "Do you know by any chance were can I find that fuckward who did this?"

"Sorry hunny, I don't know him and he was thrown out but... Not sure you can really blame him."

"Excuse me?" Dave raised his voice and immediately regretted it, seeing Kurt head moving slightly in sleep. "Then who the fuck am I supposed to blame?" He whispered harshly.

"Calm down, lover boy." She raised both hands. "Kurt just... passes a little too well if you know what I mean."

Dave sat up on the bed, too angry to keep still. "So?" He challenged her, knowing well what she meant.

"False advertising, paying for the wrong event. Liable to piss people off. You think he'd let them know before taking the money."

"That's not a reason to fucking rape someone." He clenched his fists staring at her in disbelieve. It shouldn't really surprise him as much. The nurse in the hospital, even Kurt himself, and now his friend. Everyone reacted to it as if it was some gray fucking area, as if it was ambiguous who really was to blame. "I think it'll be better if you go to work."

She rolled her eyes at his response. "Course it's not. It's a reason to expect a little roughing up."

“His insides had to be fucking stitched up, you call that “a rough-up”?!” Dave lost control over the volume of his voice again.

"Jesus, lover boy. Calm. Didn't say the guy wasn't out of line. He took it too far sure, but Kurt knows the dangers about having the package he sports."

Dave hummed in annoyance and gritted his teeth. He wished she would just go already, because he was too close to saying something bad and he was sure Kurt wouldn't appreciate throwing his friend from her own apartment. He took a deep breath, remembering the practice the redhead Guidance Counselor showed him once. "In an ideal world there would be no dangers about having the package he sports." he said quietly.

"Wouldn't that be nice, sweetheart?" Melanie responded completely condescending. She looked at Kurt, concern obvious despite her earlier words. She shook her head at them both before leaving.

Kurt had been woken by the heated conversation. He had curled a little in on himself. Everything was because of what he was born as. His father hating him, his inability to get a decent job, his lack of a future, the pain flitting through the painkillers. He didn't want to let go of the comfort Dave was offering him so he pretended to still be asleep.

Dave lowered himself on the bed next to Kurt. He lightly run his hand over the curve of the other man's spine, sighing. "Yeah, that would be nice." He said to himself. If he could take Kurt someplace safe away from this place he would. But he couldn't... or maybe he could! He wasn’t able to do anything when Kurt was at work, but he could at least walk him there. At some distance, of course, because Kurt would never agree to be taken care of like that. He could make sure he was safe.

Dave felt like a pervert for using Kurt like this when he was unconscious, but he couldn't help himself. He craved the physical contact, even if it was only platonic. His hand traveled up Kurt’s back again and slid down to rest on his hip. He wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist and hugged him to his chest. "I won't let anyone hurt you again." He whispered into the hair on the back of Kurt's head, well aware of how painfully empty the promise was.

Kurt wanted those words, he wanted the fake platitude and the belief that came with them. No matter how hollow they were. He whimpered at the contact praying Dave would think it was just pain.

Dave froze for a moment before prying himself away. "Oh god, Kurt I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to do anything, really. Did I hurt you?"

Kurt bit his lip and shifted. "S'fine..."

"No, it's not. I'm a tool. It's normal that after what you've been through you're afraid of physical contact." And yet Dave was here, using every opportunity he had to assault the other man's privacy. "Do you want me to go?"

"Yes." _No._ "You should have left when I asked you to the first time." _I'm afraid I'll need you._ "Leave me alone."

Dave slid slowly off the bed. He screwed it. Again. That's all he was good at. Crossing the boundaries. Fucking things up. He stopped through the doors. "You still have my number, right?" He asked, hoping his voice doesn't betray the desperation of wanting to have any confirmation that this isn't over, that he'll get to see Kurt again.

"I won't be using it." He had to be sure Dave would leave him be. He couldn't handle Dave trying to care for him, trying to sink himself in this hopeless world.

Dave leaned on the door frame. "I won’t come here again. If that's what you want." He said looking down on the floor. "But if you'll need something..."

"Just get out."

Dave nodded, not daring to look at Kurt, and left the apartment.


	7. Their Happy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Slut-shamming, transphobic language, attempted sexual assault, violence

He didn't stay away.

He couldn't pinpoint the particular moment when Kurt went in his mind from “the whore I slept with” to... well to be honest, Dave didn't know who Kurt was for him. His mind was sometimes supplying him with definitions too big and serious to apply to their messy relationship.

The thing Dave was pretty sure about, was that he couldn't just leave Kurt to his own devices. Especially not after he learned about the dark reality of the other man's life. The things he found out were assaulting his thoughts repeatedly, and it was sinking into him over and over again, just how much Kurt had already suffered from the world, and from Dave, for the things he had no control over.

After the first time Kurt threw him out of his life, Dave nursed a sense of hurt pride. He tried to help and he wasn't met with gratitude, so he turned around and left.

This time was different.

It started innocent. One day he was bored, driving around, and thinking of Kurt, and somehow found himself before his apartment. He backed off rapidly, scared of Kurt noticing him. But two days later he came back on his feet.

First couple times he just stared disapprovingly at the building with knitted eyebrows as if it kept hidden the answer to all the wrong questions.

But with time he learned Kurt's schedule and started coming only when Kurt was about to leave for work. He followed the stripper at a safe distance, with a hoodie hanging low on his face, and made sure Kurt arrived to the club unmolested by anyone. Each day went accordingly to the plan he created once in Kurt’s home. He was doing this all for a good cause. The fact that Kurt had no idea he was there didn't matter as long as it was about Kurt's safety. And when some lonely thought pointed out that his behaviour slipped into rather creepy and stalkerish territory, he waved it away.

Kurt didn't call Dave, he couldn't. There was nothing in him that could accept Dave's misguided attempts at satisfying his own conscience. It was a mistake to take his number, a mistake to give him his real name. Every step thus far had been one giant mistake after another.

Dave was thankful each day and evening that none of the horror that seemed to speed Kurt's steps jumped out. In fact it seemed like Dave was pretty useless there. He felt that there was nothing he could do to make Kurt up for his assholery.

Kurt was covering the same boring distance day after day. The walk to the club took Kurt about 40 minutes as he left in the early afternoon. Kurt seemed to wander just a bit when the sun shown brightly on his face. He would stop at the signal across from the club and sigh ever so softly right before going in. In the wee night hours when everything closed at 2am Kurt's feet couldn't carry him fast enough. In a scant 30 or so minutes the stripper would navigate the city streets back to his apartment. The tension never left Kurt's shoulders as he power-walked home.

Kurt halted, having seen in last moment a body in his peripheral vision, before nearly colliding into it. He looked up to see an old acquaintance grinning at him. Three men from the local street gang were boxing him in. A block from home. He was only a single block from home, dammit!

"What do you ingrates want?" Kurt snarled, crossing hands over his chest.

"Well, look who's here." The lug on the right sneered. "Our favourite little whore. Hurrying up to suck some dicks, aren't you?"

"Heading home actually, gentlemen. All done with the pricks of the world, especially the tiny ones. You are right up that alley, Eddy." Kurt sneered at the ringleader to his front.

Eddy scoffed and looked back at his comrades. "The ladyboy's funny, isn't she?" All at once, he lurched forward and pushed Kurt hard. "How about now? Have something to say?"

Kurt stumbled back, his eyes narrowed. "Clearly your intelligence is on the lower spectrum where physical violence is the only come-back you can manage."

The two other men creeped behind Kurt, surrounding him. One of them jerked the bag from his hand, and got busy with throwing his stuff on the pavement, searching for money. The other used the distraction to grab Kurt by encircling both of his arms under the Kurt's armpits, and securing them on Kurt's neck.

"I think you already forgot your last lesson," the ringleader said coming up.

Kurt struggled but his slight build was nothing against the larger man. He had never been the kind to just bow and now he was going to be in deeper. This would end with a few bruises at the least. He'll probably be forced to suck them off as a 'payment' for the lack of money on him. Tips were crap tonight and he only had about $20 in cash.The man holding him applied some weight on his grip. The pain throbbed in Kurt’s shoulders, forcing him down on his knees.

"This time I'll make you remember." Eddy cooed in Kurt's ear.

~~~~

Dave lost Kurt from his vision a while ago. It always made him anxious, but he had to keep the safe distance in case Kurt stopped for a moment or turned back. He followed the figure along the bright streets and darker alleys, his mind already days ahead of the moment. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with the patrols, as he called them, came the finals. He had to figured it out.

Dave turned around the corner and froze as his fears visualized before his eyes. Some thug punched Kurt's face and his head snapped back before he slumped in the grip.

"Hey! Back the fuck off from him," Dave shouted out running toward the pack swarming Kurt.

"And who the fuck are you?" The guy who punched Kurt spat and turned to his mates. "Look at fucking hero coming to rescue a whore. Get lost man, 's not your business." He grabbed Kurt's chin up. "I think you have some debt, fag. Would you like to pay it now?" He mocked, unzipping his pants.

Kurt's eye was already swelling. He jolted at the voice. No, no, no! Dave couldn't be here. They'd hurt him! Kurt prayed that Dave would just walk away. Just up and leave Kurt as the worthless whore he was. Kurt knew this would happen, the gang did this to all the girls in the building at one point or another. Kurt tried to keep his cool. "I have a condom. Please let's settle this nicely."

"Good for you. Safety first." Eddy chuckled. "But you're going to take it raw, like a good slut. Won't you, whore? Look you even have an audience." He said, pulling out his dick.

Dave have always thought that "seeing red" is just a hyperbolic phrase. But in that moment rage flooded him with crimson haze and he didn't even noticed jumping to the guy and punching him hard in the face. He hastily pulled out his phone from the pocket and held it like a weapon. "Now fuck off or I'm calling the police!"

Kurt stared, his body still trapped by the bastard holding his arms. He tried to pull away in the confusion. He hissed at the man holding him. "Get running, Eddy. This would break your parole, wouldn't it, you limp dick bastard."

The leader guy recovered fast. He wiped the blood carelessly from his lips and slowly tugged himself back into the pants, as if considering his options. "You just made a big fucking mistake."

He nodded at the other two and they rushed at Dave immediately. The moment Kurt was dropped on the ground, Eddy kicked him in the guts and then squatted next to him. He grabbed handful of Kurt’s hair to pull his head up. "So, now you're fucking rich boys to get protection from us? Damn, that just breaks my heart." He smashed Kurt's head on the pavement, hard enough to send the message across. Then he pulled it up again and whispered to his ear. "See, the thing is, it won't break the parole if there will be no one to inform the police. And when we'll be done with him, I'm going back to you, so get your little pussy ready." Eddy let Kurt's head fall down and stood up to join in with the others.

Dave was a big guy and he had an experience with putting his 220 lb to a good use. He dodged the first one swing that came at him and knocked the other guy down with a quick blow across the jaw. He could take the two of them. He jumped away from an impending kick and threw another punch, too caught up in the fight to notice Eddy approaching him.

Kurt's vision swam. He groaned painfully as he tried to get his bearings. He finally glanced to the side, seeing the bag that had been flung there. He grabbed it and pulled out the switchblade he kept zipped in the inner pocket. He pulled it out and popped the blade. He got on his feet. "Back the fuck away from him! Now!"

Eddy turned around. "Are you fucking serious?" He scoffed, coming back again. He pulled out a knife from his pocket. “I think mine's bigger, babe." He tossed the knife from one hand to another and back. "Now, who has a better grip on this." He smiled mischievously.

Dave drove his elbow under the other man's ribcage and watched with triumph as he stumbled to the ground. He looked up to see Kurt swaying on his feet with a small switchblade, standing against the guy he called Eddy. He jumped towards them and grabbed the thug in a Nelson hold. "Drop that down." He said calmly. He got too occupied to notice that the two man behind him started getting on their feet.

"Dave, behind you!"

Dave started at Kurt's voice but it was too late. One of the men punched him in the kidney. Dave groaned in pain and loosened his grip on Eddy. The guy swooped around and slammed his head into Dave's. Dave saw dark, right before he was kicked into the underside of his knee, and sent to the ground.

Kurt scrambled for the phone that had been skidded away from Dave. He knew he and Dave couldn't take them all. He fumbled, fingers shaking with the adrenaline surging thought his body. Once the phone was in his grasp he'd dialed 911. He turned the bright screen toward the gang.

"You fuckers better get running." Kurt's voice could cut glass.

Eddy looked up and cursed. He kicked Dave hard in the stomach, the other guy amending it with a strong kick into Dave's back.

"Leave him, let's go!" the third one yelled.

The gang ran off down the street, the poorly lit inner city streets seemed to swallow the movement as if they had never been.

"911. Please state the nature of your emergency." A strong female voice commanded from Kurt's hand.

"S...sorry! My back door was jimmied open. What a fright. David, don't scare me like that!" Kurt's voice was tremmoring and huffing with relief. "I'm so sorry it was just my husband lost his keys again."

"Good to know you are safe Ma'am, have a good night."

"So sorry." Kurt shut the phone. It was one thing to stand up to the gang, it was another to get one of them sent back to jail.

"You stupid asshole. Come on, we need to get off the street." Kurt moved to Dave's side.

Dave turned on his stomach and spat out the blood gathered in his mouth. He sat up pressing a hand to his hurt side. "Friendly as always," he murmured trying to move up.

"You made things worse." Kurt insisted even as he pulled one of Dave's arms over his shoulders to help him stand. "You're lucky we're almost at my place."

"Are the police coming yet?" Dave asked looking around. "We have to wait for them. To write the report."

"Of course they're not coming! I don't have a death wish, David." Kurt tugged at him insistently.

"Wait, what?" Dave struggled at little in Kurt's hold. "If they sent them to jail, you'll be safe. And it'll scare the rest off."

"Are you stupid? It would get one of them sent to jail and the rest of the gang marking me as a target."

"No, if you gave them the names, you'd be like, under the witness protection or some shit like that." Dave said.

"You are so naive it's painful."

A block and what felt like a lifetime of strained silence later, they stumbled into Kurt's apartment and he deposited Dave on the chair at the kitchen table.

"I can tell you what happens. Eddy goes to jail because he's on probation. The rest get to say I was whoring for them. The police pull my record and, sure enough, I've got one or two prostitution charges there. Case closed. At the best I get slapped with a fine for propositioning them and they get a fine for hiring me. Then they come back and beat me dead for putting Eddy in jail."

Dave frowned. "Why would the police believe them and not you? Beside, they would have my testimony." He leaned on the chair and winced at the pain in his back.

"Cops don't believe whores. In their minds -and everyone else's- if you sold your body once it's fine for people to try to take it for free."

Dave let out a long breath. The words were awfully similar to the way he used to think. Kurt brought an icepack and one bag of frozen peas. He handed the pack to Dave and placed the peas on his own swollen eye.

"You don't need to have this on your record, Dave." Kurt tried to counsel Dave like he was a mentally slow child.

Dave looked at him, the words finally getting through to him. "Did I... really make it worse? Will it piss them off, what we've done today?"

The thought jabbed at his conscience. What if now Kurt will be assaulted on Dave's behalf? What if they'll try to force themselves on him because they didn't succeed last time? It's going to be Dave's fault. But he did the right thing, how could it backfire this way? God, this world looked like reflected in a distorted mirror. Act like a decent person, you'll bring bad things on the one you'd tried to help. A shudder run down his spine. "I... I just wanted to keep you safe." His voice broke. What a pathetic hero he was.

One look at Dave and Kurt halted a sarcastic retort. He sighed and moved closer. His hand gently petted through Dave's hair. "You shouldn't be in this world, Dave. You aren't prepared for the terrible reality of it. Look, it won't be too bad. I'll seek them out, give some free use and get out of it without much damage." Of course that was the most hopeful outcome but Dave didn't need to hear that.

"But you were hurt. Are you healed already?" Dave bowed his head to hide the tears.

"I'm pretty much healed. I can take clients again if I'm careful. Most of that gang is a little cock shy so it's less likely they'll want the main course above my mouth." Kurt's hands kept petting.

“You followed me, didn’t you?” Kurt asked quietly after a moment.

"Are you mad at me? I'm so sorry, Kurt," he said.

"You don't get anything about my life, David. Stop trying." Kurt delicately shifted the peas with the hand not in Dave's hair.

Dave let himself lean into the comfort of Kurt's hand. He tilted his head and kissed Kurt’s wrist mirroring the gesture Kurt made so long ago. "What if I'll try harder?"

Kurt refused to acknowledge the fluttering of his heart over the soft kiss. "No. This isn't your world. Stop coming, stop following, just please, stop. I don't want to see you become like this place."

"Don't do this. Please," Dave whispered. "Don't cut me off."

"You're bleeding in my kitchen because you didn't understand. I'm going to have to clean up this mess. You can't..." Kurt could feel his voice raising. He couldn't take any more high emotion tonight so he regulated his breathing and offered a much calmer solution. "Look, you want to help me? Be a client and tip well. "

"I don't want to be your _client_!" Dave snapped and stood up hobbling a little. He put a hand on the table to shore himself and dropped the ice pack on it. "That’s what you want? Everything we did, it really didn't mean jackshit to you?”

"It's safer!" Kurt screamed right back at him, his control lost in the madness of the night. "Clients don't get hurt because they followed me home! They don't get picked up for solicitation charge because they were seen with me! They don't take time away from my ability to make a living by wanting to talk to me at my club!"

"I take away time from your ability to make a living?! Oh, really?" Dave said through gritted teeth. "Because being a whore is obviously so beneficial for you."

"It pays for food and this fucking place!" Kurt snarled, going on the defensive. "You didn't seem to care when you were a client.”

Dave ignored the remark well aware it was probably the biggest mistake he'd ever make. "So this is how you plan on spending your life? Stripping until you're too old and then what? Starve? What about your dreams?"

"Yes, _dreams_ , Dave. Pretty little whips of air that will never happen. There's a one in a million chance of them ever coming true and I can't pin myself on those odds. Bills need to be paid."

Dave leaned towards him, voice suddenly calm. "You can accomplish so much more."

"Did you miss tonight? Have you forgotten that I have a gang after me? I'm trying to stay alive. Anything more is a pipe dream so I don't take a razor to my wrists!" Kurt hadn't meant to vent that. It wasn't often nor was it something that he dwelled on but there were days...

Dave's eyes widened at that. He acted before thinking and grabbed Kurt’s wrists, the peas fell forgotten to the floor in the rush of motion. "Don't you ever even think about it." He squeezed them lightly.

"I don't usually." Kurt assured them both. "You don't belong with me here, Dave."

Dave's hands slid up Kurt's arms and stopped on his neck. He brushed his thumbs over the line of Kurt's jaw. "Then run away with me."

"You're crazy." The words were almost affectionate. "Come on, hero. I'm exhausted and you're not stepping out on the street tonight."

Dave let his hands fall down. Kurt gathered the now room-temperature ice-pack and bag of peas to toss back into the freezer.

"Will you let me step out tomorrow to bring a breakfast for you?" Dave asked, following Kurt to his room.

"Only if you take my switchblade with you." Kurt slowly stripped out of his shirt and jeans before sliding into his bed with just his boxers.

Dave took his pants off and laid down next to Kurt. "That _switchblade_ looks like an utensil compared to real thing. We have to buy you something better. What about a gun?" He asked tugging himself under the covers.

Kurt couldn't quite let Dave touch him, but having him in the same bed was comforting. "Don't have the money or the clear record for a permit."

"I have." Dave said instantly and turned on his side to face the other man.

Kurt pressed his lips together. "Will it make you stop following me?"

"I don't think so." Dave grinned. Reluctantly, as if testing the waters, he moved his arm to wrap it just like before, around Kurt.

Kurt nodded just a little and allowed the touch. "Just stop. I shouldn't accept something like that."

“I thought we established I'm crazy. You can't just expect a crazy person to easily let go of their obsessions.”

“Why do I let you into my home?" Kurt smiled tiredly before settling himself to fall toward sleep.

"Bagels," Dave whispered.

"Mmm must be."

Dave scooped a little closer, and bowed his head to a comfortable angle, pressing his chin on Kurt's arm. He hoped he wasn't crossing any physical boundaries Kurt might have. Although from the looks of it, Kurt didn’t have any problem with being touched.

Kurt shifted in his sleep closer to Dave's warmth. The broad boy's breath caught at the simple affection. Maybe Kurt was already feeling what Dave was. Maybe Dave could be the hero in this story after all. He just got to it all wrong. Clearly the problem wasn't _Kurt's_ lack of willingness to change or being ungrateful. How stupid could he have been to ever blame Kurt?

A smile slid over Dave's face as he very gently pet along the other man's pale arm. Dave understood more now. It was this horrifying place's fault. It had forced Kurt into this life and Dave just needed to find a different way to raise him up. Once Kurt was out of here then Dave could move onto romancing him. Then Kurt would be more than willing to accept Dave's kiss and touch. They still could have their happy ending.


	8. That’s Not Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: mild somnophilia, sex worker shaming, transphobic language, masturbation.

Dave was in a really happy place. He felt warm and fuzzy, just lingering on the edge of dream and consciousness. And there was that delicious pressure on his dick. He sighed happily and bucked his hips into the softness.

Kurt woke in warm. Really his slowly waking mind only registered warm and good. He snuggled back toward it, the hard warmth rubbing against his boxers right between his firm ass. He groaned and wiggled more, unconsciously seeking out that sensation.

Dave moaned through sleep and rolled his hips again, the precum damping the front of his boxers.

Kurt gasped right back as his body began to wake in a very similar manner. His short prick was stiff and sensitive. Kurt's mind however was also rising. He blinked his eyes open. He was in a warmth... a man...a man who had stupid followed him home. The night before and all the fears and horror of Dave's ignorance of this world flooded him. He should definitely not be rubbing up against the man's morning wood. Kurt delicately attempted to lift Dave's arms.

Dave's arm shifted under the touch and he swung it around Kurt after a second, pressing closer to him. He hid his nose in the crook of Kurt's neck and inhaled the scent, still rutting against him. The sleeping haze started to clear out and he sighed quietly against the other man's skin.

"Dave. Let me go." It was a deceptively calm sentence. He was beginning to panic, those huge arms were strong, easily strong enough to take what they wanted. Even if he believed that Dave wouldn't hurt him Kurt had no trust in men. Dave had a temper and Kurt knew that though he seemed to have changed it wasn't long ago he had no respect for Kurt or his profession.

Dave lift his head from the pillow and mumbled something incoherently, taking in the surroundings. It felt so good, why was he woken up? Kurt was saying something. Kurt was pressed closely against him, Dave’s cock resting between those fantastic ass-cheeks. Dave's eyes widened in horror. He jolted out of the embrace to the near edge of the bed. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry." He said in a rush.

Kurt let out a breath when he was no longer in the tight hold. He shifted to sit up on the bed before sliding out from the bed and terrifying warmth. Kurt congratulated himself for keeping his voice steady. "I'm going to shower..."

Dave lifted slightly. "Yeah. Okay." He said, watching Kurt go. He dropped back down on the bed. “What a dumb fuck” he said in the empty room. He threw the cover away and stared disapprovingly at his erection. The hard-on was straining against the soft fabric of his boxers, completely unaffected by the murderous gaze Dave was shooting its way. He was sure he was falling for a guy who made his disinterest very clear and they had a gang after them,but all Dave could think about was jerking off. He cursed his stupid body and reached to the boxers. Gotta do this quick before Kurt comes back.

Kurt turned on the water and let it run for a few moments to get it heated. He bit down on his own lip hard as his long delicate fingers petted his own erection. Despite the discomfort he desperately wanted that sensation of need back. He stepped into the shower and leaned back against the tile. With the hot water easing his tense muscles he pressed two finger over his swollen labia while the other jerked himself with swift little tugs. He came with a stifled yelp imaging Dave's mouth on him again.

Dave pulled up his shirt up to his armpits and jerked off last few times. With, a grunt, he spilled on his hand and stomach. His hands dropped on his groin and he allowed himself to lay still for a moment. But then he remembered where he was, and stirred into motion. He looked in panic around the room and took off the boxers, then wiped the mess with them. The cum left a sticky feel on his skin and Dave grimaced in disgust looking around for his jeans. He folded the boxers as tightly as he could and thrust them into his pocket. He walked out of the room feeling particularly pathetic.

Kurt took longer in the shower. He finished cleaning the evidence of his thoughts away before going through his cleaning ritual. He found himself bare in front of the mirror fussing with his hair. He couldn't quite place why, but he felt like looking both his best and most masculine. He spiked up his short hair in a flirty up-sweep. Finally he came out with the towel around his waist.

Dave swallowed hard at the view, eyeing the piece of fabric. Kurt looked amazing. So easy to dispose, just one short pull and Kurt would be exposed right here. Dave’s cock twitched, too spent to harden after the last orgasm but clearly interested. Damn Kurt for making him feel like an insatiable pervert. Dave adverted his gaze. "Could I take a shower too?" He prayed Kurt would allow him to wash the stickiness off his skin.

Kurt glanced to Dave. He wasn't shy about his own body after all these years, but seeing the blush on Dave's cheeks and his eyes clearly averted brought a smile. It was nice to be appreciated. "Go ahead. Shampoo is in the olive bottle and conditioner is in the cream bottle. There's a bar soap of old spice left from Mel's ex and strawberry body wash."

Dave nodded and mumbled a thank you. Strawberry body wash, he smiled to himself eyeing the bottle. He opened it and sniffed, recognizing the faint smell from Kurt's skin. He squeezed a drop on his fingers and spread it on the back of his left hand. No. He couldn't handle coming back home and then finding Kurt on his shirts and sheets and scarves. He put the bottle down and turned on the water before stepping into a hot steam. It felt wonderful on his still sore after yesterday's happenings muscles. The water went off for a moment so he could soap himself all over, massaging the pain out of his body. He turned the faucet again and yelped in surprise when icy cold stream hit him in the face. The jump almost made him slip on the wet floor. After a couple moments of waiting, when it become clear the water has no plan on warming up, he let it spray him hastily and stepped out of the shower. Dave dressed up with shaking fingers, the drafty bathroom seemed to consume all warmth from his body. Still shivering, he walked into the kitchen annexe.

Kurt was dressed in one of his more fashionable and masculine ensembles. It was a pair of tight fitting black jeans with artfully painted striped over the rear and flanks. His shirt was a long sleeve grey with a black and similarly self-painted striped vest. He was cleaning up the medical supplies from the night before.

Dave came up to the table and reluctantly sat on the chair, not sure if Kurt was still mad at him or if he should even bring this morning up. He watched the man putting the stuff away and spoke out when he was done. "Look. About what happened. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to..." Dry-hump you. "do _that_. I wouldn't normally." He looked at Kurt, hoping the man is still able to trust him.

"I'm not used to waking up with someone I'm sure it's the same for you. It's forgotten."

Dave bit his lip. He really needed to make it clear he wasn't going to assault Kurt or anything. It would kill him if Kurt started feeling uncomfortable around him. "I just hope it's clear it wasn't caused by you." He sighed in relief, happy everything was okay between them. "So, what do we have for breakfast?" He asked cheerfully.

Kurt tensed immediately. It wasn't caused by him? Well, obviously, since it was normal to have an erection when waking. Kurt's hand smoothed down the bottom of his vest, suddenly irritated at himself for putting actual effort into his outfit on a day off. "I can make pancakes if we have eggs..."

"Cool." Dave said. "You're always this kind of dressed up when about to fry something?" He joked trying to bring back the easy atmosphere.

Okay, that just was mean. Not only was the morning's interaction nothing but a biological response, but Dave was mocking his instinct to dress nicely too. The stripper was accustomed to being pandered to, not mocked for effort. Kurt turned on his heel to slam the fridge shut. "All out of eggs. Why don't you just have breakfast elsewhere."

Dave's eyebrows shot high up his forehead at the sudden spurt of anger. "I can always go to the bakery. Bring you the same what I did the last time?" He said standing up.

Kurt wanted to refuse. He wanted to sweep Dave and all of these conflicting emotions right out his door never to be thought of again... but bagel and locks..... Kurt swallowed down the anger. He should make Dave pay, in a very monetary sense, for rubbing against Kurt's body this morning. It was only fair since it was sort of like servicing the man. "That bagel shop isn't really associated with the gangs. The owner has made it pretty damn clear you don't mess with a little old Jewish lady. You should be fine."

"Awesome. I’m really not up for a fight before the first cup of coffee." Dave winked and walked out the apartment, grabbing his jacket on the way. The moment he found himself on the street, he disposed the boxers into near trash bin. If what already happened could destroy Kurt's mood so much and turn him so combative, then... Dave didn't want to think ho Kurt would react if he knew Dave jerked off in his bedroom, getting off on the smell of Kurt’s pillow. Dave made his way to the little bakery and back. It took him longer than the last time since he was traveling on his feet, but finally he knocked on the door of Kurt's apartment again.

Kurt opened the door to the apartment immediately. He'd never admit that he'd been hovering near it worried for Dave. "Smells heavenly."

"It sure does." Dave smiled. "You have no idea how close I was to just gobbling it down on my way, having had to sniff it all this time." He laid the groceries on the table and looked around for a coffee. "Do you know that lady who owns the shop? She seemed nice."

"Zelde is a doll. I sometimes get to trade some mending for food." Kurt took the delicacy from the bag and made a soft sigh. "I love her food."

Dave's head snapped up at that. "You mean... You can't afford food sometimes?"

"Dave... Can we please not talk about this?" Kurt groaned as he tried to enjoy his first bite.

Dave gaped him. It never occurred to him just how poor Kurt is. Sure, he heard about poverty and slums and people who starve to death. But Kurt... Kurt was so elegant with the little resources he had, so proud and beautiful, Dave never really focused on the details like the fact that Kurt apparently doesn't do shopping in advance, because he doesn't have enough money. He slid his bagel across the table towards the other man. "You know, I'm not really that hungry. Coffee?"

"I don't want your pity or charity David." Kurt refused to even look at the offering. He could have used the food, put it in the fridge for tomorrow and actually been able to have food before going in to work, not have to work the VIP room this week if he could make it last for the few days before payday.

Dave looked at him concerned. "Look, I have enough fat on me already. I shouldn't eat the carbo to be honest. You do me a favour and take it."

Kurt looked from Dave to the food before biting his lip. He really could use it.... He eyed Dave critically one last time before packing the food away and into the fridge. He then broke off a piece of his own and offered it to Dave.

Dave frowned at the food before him. The hunger still simmered in his stomach but he didn't want Kurt to think he was so pathetic that he couldn't deal with missing the breakfast. Dave held Kurt's hand in his and took one bite. "Mmm, that's enough." He licked his lips and moved to start the water for coffee.

Kurt nodded, swallowing down his pride and the first bite of bagel. He stood and helped Dave find all of the items for coffee.

"So, what are you doing today?" Dave brushed past him reaching for a mug. He froze with his hand still stretched out, realizing the answer. "Um I meant... Home. Here. We could watch something again..."

"I have chores to get done." He ignored Dave's topic scramble.

Dave shifted awkwardly, desperately wanting to prolong his time with Kurt. The man may not realized this yet, but it was what they both needed. "You know, about this morning. You were very upset. But we're cool, right?"

"We're fine David. I wasn't expecting you to be there." Kurt didn't even want to think of his own stupidity. "You're not going to be following me anymore, correct?"

"You're going to let me buy you a gun, correct?" Dave grinned. "Also, I can't promise I won't accidentally find myself around your area."

"Yes. You can buy me a gun." It would be good to pawn if things got really tight. "Don't accidentally find yourself anywhere near here at night."

Dave ignored the remark. "You can shoot, right? My grandfather was always saying that a real man has to know how to properly shoot, build a house and love a women." Dave sighed at the memory of old man. He liked him a lot.

"Looks like I'll never be a real man then."

"Well I don't exactly meet his expectations with that last part either." Dave smiled at him. "You know this means I'll take you to a rifle-range?"

"I was dreading that part but yes it seems I'm trapped into doing so." Kurt offed a dramatic for effect sigh.

"I'll love it!" Dave said excitedly. "I'm sure you're great!" He paused for a moment. "Your dad never show you how to use a gun?"

"No. A wrench and a carburetor yes, but never a gun."

"You... worked on cars?" Dave said trying to wave away image of Kurt in overalls.

"My father was.. Is the town mechanic. No son of his was ever going to have to call triple A to change a tire."

"Oh yes, I remember. I think my father took our cars to his shop once." Dave took a sip of his already cold coffee. "So you two weren't very close?" He ask fishing for details of Kurt’s home life.

Kurt tensed. His hand traced the rim of the cup in his hands absently. "We were once. "

"What happened?" Dave’s voice was quiet.

"I'm not going to talk about that with you. Drop it."

"It doesn't really seem like you have anyone else to talk to." Dave shrugged.

“Have you ever thought that perhaps it's already been talked out? It was a long time ago and I made my peace with it." Kurt snapped.

Dave frowned. "If you made your peace with him why are you still here?"

"I'm saying I made peace with why we had the... falling out. Not with him." He growled at Dave.

"So let me take wild guess here. It's because you felt unwanted. You felt like you weren't the son he wanted you to be." Dave set his mug away. "Like you disappointed him."

"David." Kurt's voice was deceptively controlled.

"If that's really how your pops made you feel, I'll tell you this: he's a fucking bad parent."

Kurt stood instantly. His small hand gripped Dave's wrist and yanked him toward the door. "You're leaving now."

"Hey!" Dave twisted his arm out of Kurt's grip and grabbed his shoulders. "I get it, you still love him. But this," he gestured to the duck-tapped kitchen faucet, the tiny combined kitchen/dinning room/living room, to the peeling off, fake tiles pasted over cement and finally to the general run down building."This is his fault too. He failed you." Dave stilled Kurt when he tried to get away.

"Get out!" Kurt jerked away from Dave's word and his touch. "Dad did the best he could with a freak son and a dead wife. It wasn't enough that I was so fucking girly or that I was gay. I'm also this genetic freak that couldn't be a girl to replace mom despite having most of the right parts."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Dave blared in frustration. "If he did his best you'd be right now on a date with some airhead prettyboy and not on arguing with me about buying a gun to defend yourself!" His hands clenched in fists. "Stop blaming yourself for the stupidity of the world! You're good and strong and more of a man than I could ever be! There's nothing wrong with you! And if my parents want to send me to some curing camp they can fuck themselves, because there's nothing wrong with me either!" He stopped abruptly his outburst, still breathing heavily.

Kurt's tears started. He'd believed those things a long long time ago. Once he'd held his head high and never let the words and bullies shove him down. Once He'd been sure he'd be bigger and better and happier then all of them. He didn't believe any of it anymore. "Bullshit! You're just as ashamed as I am. You're hiding in your closet and visiting a hermaphroditic whore on you off time!"

Dave twitched and looked away. "You're right." He said quietly. "I'm a pathetic closet case who can't man up enough to tell anyone I'm gay. In the past it made me do things I hate myself for." He swallowed the memories and shifted his gaze back on Kurt. “I'm ashamed about many things but seeing you is not on the list. You make me want to be better, Kurt."

"What can you possibly be thinking this is, David? Are you planning to take me home in one of my dresses? Make your family think you're a straight boy? Or should I go like this? As a boy. Or instead maybe you should bring mom and dad down to the club so they can see my career. They’ll be so proud of you then."

Dave’s teeth clashed together, the gentleness gone from his voice."Why would I take you to my parents? I fucked you once. Because you were there. That's all. 'S really so fucking beyond your grasp that I don't want anything _from_ you, just want to be friends _with_ you?"

Kurt closed his eyes tightly, trying to shove away the pain. So Kurt was just a sex toy for Dave, something convenient to fuck. Kurt really shouldn't be surprised, but it burned somewhere where his hopes were hiding. He could have understood Dave's desire, but this claim to not want Kurt? It felt like a lie. And if it wasn't a lie... then he'd decided that Kurt was too dirty to be with like that. The insults stung on his eyes. "Get out!"

"Why?" Dave drawled. God, Kurt was so hard to figure out. "Because I care."

"How about for making me cry. Again. Don't you dare talk about my father ever again, you understand me?"

"Bullshit. You just want an excuse to victim-blame yourself further." Dave glared at him. "Well, okay, maybe I'll talk with _him_ then. With the holiday break coming up," he paused. "I'll go home. Will have a lot of time to bond with old friends."

"Don't you dare!" Kurt grabbed Dave by his collar and yanked him closer. "You don't fucking say a word, David!"

Dave's breath caught in his throat. Kurt was so close he could smell him again. "But he hurt you," he said softly.

"I don't want him to have any more reason to be ashamed of me." Kurt tried to snarl and keep his anger going, but it came out as a pathetic keen, making him sound like a frightened child.

Dave winced. He pressed his forehead onto Kurt's. "He shouldn't be. He has no reason to."

"I'm a whore David. I'm an object that men pay to use." That you paid to use. "I can't think of a worse thing to know your son is. " Kurt painted the vision as he imagined it would sound to any parent from a town as sheltered as Lima. He doubted there was a strip club in the county let alone in Lima proper.

Dave cupped his cheek gently and leaned back a little. "Love should be unconditional." He looked into his eyes. "And how could he", Anyone? "not love you?"

Kurt's eyes glistened bright green under the water that slipped down his cheeks. Years of fear and longing were rolled back as he cried. He didn't look older then a terrified 14 year old. "It should be. But it's not. It's bought and sold on the street every day for less then a week’s worth of groceries."

Dave embraced him, one of hands making its way into Kurt's hair, holding him close. Dave tilted his head and whispered to Kurt's ear. "One would think a smart guy like you would know that's not love."

"Real love doesn't exist." He pressed his nose into Dave's collarbone and breathed him in. "It's only obligation or merchandise."

Dave made a shushing noise. "You just never got to feel it."

"I never will." He huffed right against Dave's neck. "You shouldn't get involved with me."

“That's not true. If you believe the sappy crap from rom coms, it's never too late for a slow motion run in with a true love." Dave grinned down at him. His fingers clenched slightly in Kurt's shirt. "What should I do then? Leave you like this?" He scoffed.

"Yes. You should run far far away. Find a nice normal twink, bring him breakfast in bed and fall madly in love." Kurt spun the story with dripping irony. In a different life, one where he'd been just another college student at the same university as Dave that could have been him.

Dave leaned back. "What makes you think that's what I want?" He cupped Kurt's cheek with his hand and caressed it. "I'm not looking for a relationship", he said.

"Because you seem the type to be a family man once you come out. With a devoted partner and child." Kurt let Dave touch him. "You looking for someone you can save then?"

"No. I mean. I don't know. Ultimately, I just want to be with some decent guy who won't flinch away looking at me. Kids too. Yeah. At least two, because being the only child sucks."

Kurt frowned, not sure how to take that one. He signed and decided not to deal with it. "I'm sure you have somewhere to be."

"Not really, no." Dave hurried to say and winced at how pathetically desperate it probably sounded. He started again, calmer. "I don't have any classes today", he lied. "Just a full day of not knowing what to do with myself."

"Fine. Since you're so stubborn. I'll put you to work. I have plenty to get done."

Dave smiled and bit his lip to keep the grin from getting wider. He let his hands fall off Kurt's body, but allowed himself the pleasure of sliding them down his sides. "Just remember I'm not that familiar with doing laundry."

"I'll order you around." Kurt was smiling with pure evil intent.

"Hot." Dave smirked at him and took a step back. "Where do we start?"

"Dishes. No dish washer here so it's all by hand. Hop to it"

Dave went to the kitchen counter and was about to get to work, before turning around. "But what about my hands?" He made a scandalized expression and reached out his hand. "They're too delicate for your cheap wash-up liquid. Don't you have some gloves?"

Kurt snorted. He bent down into the under sink and grabbed out rubber yellow gloves and the steel wool. Dave's gaze slid down on his ass involuntarily, but stayed there for the short moment it took the other man to pick up the items with Dave's conscious approval. He wondered briefly how long he'll get to play this game before getting caught and having to deal with restraining order or something.

"Get working, Cinderella."

Dave turned to the sink with a smile. "This I can work with. I was starting to doubt you, Fancy."

"Never doubt me." Kurt tapped a scrub brush on Dave's nose. "I'm going to sort the laundry."


	9. Nice Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfic's authors: vkdemon and karomeled  
> Chapter's warnings: cissexism, possesiveness, manipulation, implied underage prostitution
> 
> An: Some additional links and stuff for this chapter is at the end. We found it very helpful creating the detail of this fic and for our own expanding knowledge.   
> _soft packing_ : the process of creating a male-looking and/or feeling bulge in one's crotch-- specifically, the term usually refers to "soft packing," or wearing a device that mimics the appearance of a flaccid penis

Dave sighed quietly, putting the cleaned up plate away on a rag to dry off. He really needed to cut the creepiness, he thought letting the water off the sink. "I'm done, do you need some help there?" Oh, right, that didn't sound creepy at all.

Kurt was cross-legged on his bed, two well used trash bags being swiftly filled with with darks and lights. Kurt's piles were spread out into vaguely sorted work and casual piles. There was a mound of skirts and cut off tops and generally revealing cheap fabrics. The other pile was better materials and resembled a more masculine aesthetic. Kurt glanced up at the entering man and vaguely waved him toward the masculine pile. "Go through the pockets and make sure there are no coins or heaven help me pens like last time I did this while drunk."

Dave nodded and moved further into the room, not letting his surprise show. There was something about going through other person’s stuff, he mused digging his hand into the pockets of worn-out jeans he grabbed. Kurt trusted him, evidence of it clear in the welcoming words and permission to discover whatever secret might be still hidden from him. Dave smiled, pulling up a pair of boxers. Something fell to the ground and Dave held it up without a thought. 

A pair of tights covered rolls appeared before his eyes. They were tied together, and the shorter of them seemed to have other packing inside. Dave squeezed it curiously and the thing bucked under his fingers going back to its shape once he eased his hand, like one of those balls people use when they’re stressed. Dave looked up with a joke ready on his lips, but it died at the glimpse of crimson covering Kurt’s cheeks.

"Oh my god. Give me that!" Kurt shrieked as he grabbed for the item. As it entered his hands he held the longer weighted shaft and sac in the shape that it was supposed to resemble. "I forgot it was in there." 

“Jesus.”Dave backed off perplexed. “My dad had one of these, why are you freaking out at me over nothing?”

"I seriously doubt your father had one." Kurt snapped as he jolted from the bed to try to find a hiding spot. "Especially considering you're his biological son."

“What?” Dave’s eyes followed the frantic movement. “What does that have to do with anything?”

"It's a cock, David!" Kurt snapped. "You think I walk around with panty hose tucked in my underwear?"

“Oh...,” was all he could muster. Dave stared numbly at the shut drawer where the packing was thrown. His eyes went back to Kurt. “But you already have a cock,” he said assuredly.

"One that's woefully lacking." Kurt ran a hand through his hair. He hated this, this partial state. Sometimes he loved his body, but those moments were few and far between and only happened when he could wear extremely tight pants without worry of pinching his naughty bits. "Look, sometimes I like the look and feel of having a normal sized cock in my pants."

“I like your cock,”Dave said right away, careful to put just enough affirmation into his voice.

"Good for you. I don't." Kurt placed his soft packing into the dresser, petting over it with a tiny sad smile. "I'll need a new one soon anyway. It gets worn out. It's nice. You don't realize how much I know I'm missing being born different. So I supplement as best I can."

“What did you put in it?” Dave asked, his eyes still fixed on the drawer.

"Originally I filled it with water but it didn't look right. I looked online and found a recipe. It only costs about 2 bucks and a little time to make. It's... um condoms.. I put it in condoms and then in the soft case." Kurt was bright red. The only person he'd ever talked about it with was Mel and she'd been the one to go online at the public library and write down the recipe.

“Must be uncomfortable,” Dave noted dully turning to Kurt. He bit his lip and dropped rest of the questions at the sign of the other man’s embarrassment. “I really meant it though, you know. About your cock. It’s very cute,” he tried loosen the atmosphere.

"Oh...." Kurt licked at his lips, not used to the praise. He sat back down next to Dave on the bed. He sorted the laundry for a few moments as he processed the conversation. He folded one of his 'girl' outfits with an impossibly small skirt.

Dave looked at the impressively scant clothing. "You won't tell me you can actually fit in this."

"It's for game night at the strip club. It's supposed to mimic some sports team. I always forget which one." Kurt was more then happy to get onto a more normal topic of his cross-dressing. 

"Well it's violet and white so maybe NYC's University? Always wanted to go there." He said sitting down next to Kurt. "I'm not really familiar with local teams though."

"I don't know any. I've never had any interest... well except for in those violently masculine displays."

Dave snorted. "Those violently masculine display are fun to watch until you actually participate in one and your back turns into a combination of gray, violet and yellow for a week"

"No thank you. I was in football for all of 3 weeks. That was enough for me."

"Yeah, I saw that. You' were a pretty damn good kicker though."

"Was I? It was enough to be safe on the team at least." Kurt began on the clothing splayed over the bed, a soft jacket that was once very high quality was worn from overuse. He folded it tenderly and placed it into the darks bag.

"Dude. I'm telling you. McKinley didn't see any better, that's for sure. Why did you join anyway? You seemed more comfortable when you were on Cheerios."

"I.. I wanted my father to love me." He said it very softly and he tossed socks.

Dave's hand froze mid-air. They were at it again. "I see." He murmured, trying not to start the painful topic again. The more he knew about Kurt's father, the angrier the man was making him though. "Didn't really work I guess." _Shit._

"No? I guess not. He was pretty damn proud of me when he came to the game. He was happy, cheering in the stands with all the other parents. I made him proud."

Dave stared at the other man. "But... you had to play out _his_ dreams to make him proud. He wasn't proud about you being yourself, just you fulfilling the football player son fantasy." He adverted his eyes. This discussion will get him to be thrown out again. "I'm just saying. I don't get why you had to go such distance." He turned back toward Kurt. 

"I went all out because I wanted to be normal enough. It was stupid now that I look back. I did have fun but... " He sighed deeply. "You know he used to have tea parties with me. He sat through all my GI joes fashion shows and weddings. He took me to the Sound of Music review every year. I think he supported me more then I ever realized. I was so focused on worrying about disappointing him when he started palling around with Finn"

Dave rose an eyebrow. "That's. Um. Wow. So he was trying to get involved in your interest?" He felt stupid for painting Mr Hummel as evil in his black and white mind. "I can't really imagine anyone being jealous of Hudson, to be quite honest."

"I was 'in love'." Kurt pressed his hand against his chest with a gasp. He chuckled at his youthful idiocy. "I set our parents up. And then suddenly my dad was taking his to ball games and outings and things he never took me to. I was terrified Dad finally had a son he wanted, not just one he settled for."

"I get it.” Dave smiled. "That was a really cunning move, by the way. Setting parents up just get to spend more time with your crush? Brilliant."

"I thought it was inspired. Too bad you can't change sexuality... No, it ended not long after that."

"You never had a guy go gay for you, Hummel? My opinion of your skills is slumping."

"Not Finn. I've had plenty men be very interested in my dual nature. But Finn was so solidly hetero that he makes me doubt sexual and gender fluidity"

Dave shook his head smiling. "You have a flop taste, man. You fell for a guy who thinks girls can get pregnant via bathtub."

"Hush you." He threw a towel at Dave's head. "He was the first. I didn't have a lot of other options. He was the first man who ever stood up for me."

Dave's face fell. "I imagine it was hard for you", he said softly. "From the little bits I've heard of it."

Kurt shrugged one shoulder and he pulled close the drawstrings on the white bag. "It was intense... but if nothing else it prepared me for how cruel the world really is."

"If we met back then I'd probably be one of the biggest assholes for you." Dave vocalized the thought that popped in his mind. "Are we going to do the laundry now? You think it's safe?"

"Safe or not it's not going to do itself. I don't have any other day to do it. Get the other two bags and follow."

"We should’ve get you the gun first. I don't want any run-in with that scum." Dave murmured grabbing the bags and following Kurt out of the apartment.

Kurt walked them through the ratty neighborhood. It was just as run down, but the morning light cast a sad light on the sagging curbs and residents on benches. Kurt said good morning to the hidden under newspaper lump on the bench. Dave gaped at Kurt for getting friendly with some homeless drunks but he knew better than saying anything. He was led 8 blocks down to the fluff and fold chain laundromat. Kurt immediately began to dump soap and clothing into the machines. Dave pulled out the change he got in the bakery today and hold it for Kurt to stick into the machine. Kurt instantly refused. He instead focused on making sure about 5 washers were filled with his loads.

"Damn, you have a lot of clothes." Dave murmured before coming up to one of the washers and putting his money in anyway.

Kurt missed the action as he counted the washers and bags. "I don't get many days off. It piles up"

Dave sneaked up to the second washer and slipped the coins into the hole there as well. "I think I'd run out of stuff to wear pretty fast if I was you."

Kurt slapped Dave's hand away from attempting to put coins in the third machine. "I don't need your pity." Kurt started fourth and fifth with his own money and hopped up to sit on top of the machine. "You should have seen my ensemble back in the day.”

"Well at least back then you didn't have to hoard all these female clothes." Dave said, absentmindedly standing between Kurt's spread legs.

Kurt tried desperately not to flush. Dave was standing close him like they were just a normal couple. "True. Though some of my things were rather feminine."

Dave smiled. "You were wearing feminine clothes in High School? In Lima, OHIO?"

"I was fierce." He smirked wide and tilted his head up. "And completely original."

"Whoa. You have bigger balls than what I thought."

"Why do you think I was a favorite of bullies? I always sprang back up and kept going."

"That's you. Never giving up."

"Yeah..." Kurt smiled, a little of the light going out of his eyes. He reached up to place a hand on Dave's shoulder. "Always a survivor right?"

"Yes." Dave covered the small hand with his own and squeezed lightly. "I know it's going to sound tacky and you're totally allowed to smack me, but... I really admire you. And it's like I'm getting more valiant by proxy, because even coming out doesn’t seem that big anymore."

Kurt licked his lips, his eyes searching Dave. "It's better out. Even with all that happened I'm so much happier being exactly who I am."

God, Dave wanted to just lean in and kiss him in that moment. Then, wrap those sinfully long legs around his waist and take him right there. But what he did do instead, was to let out an breathy chuckle and drum his fingers on the surface of the washer next to Kurt. "So, you think you can find some time tomorrow to go visit a gun store?"

"I work tomorrow. Maybe before. Since this done I can do it in the morning."

"Cool. What time should I pick you up?"

"1pm. It's two hours before my call and I should be awake and ready by then. "

"Alrighty then." Dave smiled. "You know 1 pm is not exactly morning though." He laughed. "You have seriously messed up sleeping pattern."

"I get off at 4am. This is just how my life goes." He shrugged and placed his hand down on the machine beside Dave's large paw.

"Yeah, I get it. Have you thought of switching clubs? To, you know, some better one?" His index finger brushed over Kurt's on its own accord.

"Not many will take my special condition." Kurt shrugged. "I've tried that before. My best bet is to find an exclusive Daddy."

Dave frowned. "What do you mean by daddy?"

"Daddy. An older rich man who wants exclusive rights to me. "

Dave swallowed and adverted his eyes. "Yeah. You should." He cleared his throat. "Find one I mean. That'd be safer for you too, right?"

"Sort of. It comes with a different set of problems. They want you to be on call 24/7 and you have to perform and pretend to want them all the time. It safer physically but it messes with your head."

"You... did it once already?"

"Yes, before I joined the club. He wanted someone young and pretty. He took me in, gave me everything I wanted, but he owned me. I couldn't handle being a slave."

"But... You don't get you could gather some savings faster that way. And be safer. You're not exactly a freelancer at that club, surrounded by some groggy fucks."

"David." Kurt's voice was hard. "If it was better I would have stayed."

"I just want you out of there. Out of this life."

"This is my life. You might be in Denial with a capital D but I'm not. I can never squirrel away savings it all ends up betting eaten up by an emergency. I could go to a Daddy but at the cost of myself. I'm not that mailable."

"We were talking about this. You said you still have your dreams." He lays his hand over Kurt's again. "Kurt."

Kurt looked down at their hands. "I... Fine. I'll consider a Daddy. "

Dave smiled widely. So good that they reached an agreement. Not only would Kurt be safer that way, he wouldn’t have to put out with numerous clients. Just some old control freak he could later lament to Dave about. It may even get them closer in the end.

Dave thought for a moment. "You could try out for amateur theatres. I heard something about them opening a new playhouse next semester."

"And how much do you think that actually pays? I need to make rent."

“Well, maybe you won't get paid at first, but if it helped you to get noticed and get a real job... You should try it. You wanted to perform, right?"

Kurt bit at his lip. "Dave can you stop? Does every conversation we have need to turn into this?"

"Turn into what? You questioning my judgement?"

"You pushing me!" Kurt snapped, his voice getting pitchy.

Dave snorted. "You say this like it's a bad thing."

"It is to me. Right now I am doing laundry. Tomorrow is buy a lethal weapon day. I'm all full on life changing events to deal with from you."

Dave’s eyebrows drew in confusion. “But... you want all of it.” 

"I _want_ you to back off the subject. I _want_ to handle my life at my pace. I _want_ you to understand I am making changes because of you and you _will_ respect that when I say I'm not ready to change something. You don't push or bully me about this." Kurt gave him the famous bitch face.

“Bully?!” Dave huffed. “Everything I ever did was to make you understand how much you need help, I fell an exam because of you, and what, I’m being ‘pushy’ now?”

"Who asked you to fail anything?! Did I not literally order you to leave me the hell alone multiple times? And yes, you are pushy. You've been pushy and bullying most of our time together. You've thankfully contrasted that with shockingly sweet moments which is why I haven't kicked your ass out of my apartment."

“You need me to push you. You wouldn’t do jackshit about your life without me.” Dave’s voice dropped. “ _I_ woke you up.”

Kurt pushed Dave's chest to get some physical distance between them. "I don't need you at all. You act like I've never tried to get out. You act like I somehow need to get out. It sucks, I hate where I live but guess what it's reality. If I can get a better job I will. I don't need you continually looking down on me."

Dave let the push back him away, but not enough to really give Kurt space. “I’m not looking down on you! Everyone else is! That you don’t see?” He nearly whined. This all went so wrong and he didn’t even understand when. Kurt was not supposed to be like this. He was ruining everything. Dave bit his cheek to prevent the tears from showing.

"You aren't any different. Stop acting like you some how are so much better then all the other jackasses who shove me down with their words. You do it with your supposed kindness." Kurt snarled. "How about this one. My life, my choice. Simple as that. I choose to accept your assuaging of your own guilty conscience. I take your help and am putting up with you attempting to lord over my life because you think you know better than me."

Dave took a deep breath to calm down and started again. “No. You know what, no. It’s not your choice, because you never had one. You were forced into all of this and you can’t blame me for wanting to build a normal life for us.”

"Nice dream." Kurt dropped it. Dave's self delusion was way too deep for Kurt to fight against right now. After the run in with the gang Kurt was warmed up and looking forward to the gun. He just needed to get that last thing from Dave before relocating and eliminating the delusional man from his life.

"It's going to be real." Dave smiled broadly and bumped Kurt's chin playfully, his mood entirely different now. "You gotta believe in yourself more."

Kurt offered a vague smile, forcing his cheeks to raise. "Help me change over to the dryers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FtM resources:  
> http://www.ftmguide.org/
> 
> Body positivity:  
> http://www.erectionphotos.com/
> 
> The kind of packing Kurt owns would look like this: http://www.flickr.com/photos/16393640@N03/3402679582/lightbox/


	10. Different Kind of Bravery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: graphic non-con, derogatory language against sex-workers, violence
> 
> AN: If you are triggered by rape in fiction please refrain from reading this chapter. We will include a very brief non-specific summary of what happened at the beginning of Chapter 11 for anyone who could not or did not wish to read this section.
> 
> If you're interested, on this site: 8tracks.com/vkdemon/scabt you can find vkdemon's fanmix dedicated to this fic :)

A cigarette butt flew to the ground. Jack trampled it and leaned on the wall with a sigh. Bored. He was bored out of his mind, but coming back home to listen to his old lady and his mom's bitching and moaning still didn’t seem like an option. He run fingers through his strawberry hair and with resignation, dug into pocket of the denim jacket once again, in hope that he missed some dimes. One beer? Some pisswater at least...? Nothing. Well this is going to be a bloody waste of an evening. His eyes followed a short skirt and he whistled with appraisal. The woman speed up her walk. A wolfish grin sneak on his face. He could always kill the time with getting laid. Fuck knows it’s been a while since baby momma had another one. Fuck if he could tell if it was his or not. 

Was it...? He smiled to himself. Yes. One of the whores living on 67th street. The fag who got away their band once. What a lovely run-in. He took off the wall. "Hi, Kurt. Missed me?" He said crossing the other man's path.

Kurt stilled instantly. Shit. He knew that voice and it did not mean good things. He couldn't get past Jack, he was blocking the street. "Jack...."

"So you do remember me. Coool. I thought you forgot, cuz we didn't see you around for a while. Are you hiding from something, Kurt?" Jack smiled at him, almost sweetly. Oh, he's going to have so much fun with this one.

Kurt jutted up his jaw. He kept his back completely straight refusing to cower before the man . "Just going home."

Jack came up to him and casually wrapped his arms around Kurt's back, smiling at passing people. "Let me walk you there!" He pushed at him, forcing him to move. "And on the way we could drop in that one alley you like so much."

"And why exactly would I do that, Jack?" Kurt smiled tensely. He walked, there never really was an option.

The man tightened his grip. "Why wouldn't you? I know how much you love our little meet-ups."

"I get paid well to do what you want. Now, are you paying like a proper customer?" Kurt maintained snooty as his arm started to ache from Jack's grip.

Jack barked out a laugh, as if he heard a really good joke. "Don't you think I already paid you?"

Kurt really shouldn't be talking back so much. Usually he'd do something small, bargain down in exchange. It was better than getting beat up and not able to work. "No. What have you ever done but piss in corners and bark around the street like a wild dog."

"How about that fact that I didn't break your neck yet so you can still whore your cheap ass in my neighborhood?" The man grabbed Kurt's arms and dragged him roughly along, all humor gone from his voice. They were almost at the dark blind alley he mentioned earlier. Jack headed towards a container behind which he had his previous 'meet-ups' with Kurt.

Kurt really should turn on the charm. He should turn to all smiles and seduction so Jack would calm. But no. Kurt's fighting streak never went away, it had just been tampered down, hidden away. It was returning full force these days. "Get your filthy hands off of me!"

"Shut your fucking mouth." Jack spat and pushed him onto the wall. "You should be happy I want to give you some action, you useless piece of garbage."

Kurt impacted hard. He knew he would be injured from this, knew it would not work out well. Fuck. Kurt swallowed the bits of his pride that Dave had pulled out of him. This was not the moment for Dave's words about dreams or the satisfaction of standing up against Dave's assumptions. This was the time for a different kind of bravery. Kurt licked his lips and arched off the wall like a cat in heat. "So good, Jack. That rich prick who's all sweet on me doesn't ever give it to me like this. "

"Now we're on the same page." Jack said unbuttoning his pants. He nodded at the whore to move behind the waste container and came up to him. He turned the other man around, not wanting to get in touch with his dick. He jerked Kurt's pants down and grabbed his crotch from behind. "You already wet for me, you slut, aren't you?"

"Almost, baby." Kurt cooed through the pain threatening to close his throat. He needed to get a condom on the bastard. "Please let me suck your dick?" He could get the man too hot and heavy to care as long as he could slip it on with his mouth.

"You want it, huh?" Jack spanked the cheek. "Ask nicely." He mumbled, getting off on forcing Kurt to beg.

Kurt grimaced, forever grateful his face was not toward the man. "Oh, yes. Please, let me!"

Jack chuckled and stepped away. "Be my guest then." He said, mockingly gesturing at his crotch. "I'm going to fuck your pussy either way today."

Kurt slid to his knees, his hand pulling the man out. He closed his eyes, not wanting to have to look up at his attacker. This was necessary. This had to be done. Otherwise he'd be injured, unable to work, pay rent... He took the horrible weight into his mouth.

The man thrust immediately in and grabbed Kurt's hair to hold him there for a moment, impaled at his dick and unable to move. Kurt gagged instantly. Jack let go and, holding Kurt's head still, started fucking his mouth.

He kept as still as he could, opening himself and letting himself be just a hole...nothing but a fuck-doll.... nothing. Tears started falling down and he just couldn't stop them.

“Oooh, yes, take it, that's what you're good at, yeah." The man spurted, thrusting into Kurt. He was already getting close, but he didn't want to finish like this. The whore need to be taught a lesson for back talking to him. He pulled out of Kurt and pushed at him to lay down.

Kurt tugged the condom out of his jacket pocket. He couldn't let himself get something off this bastard. He ripped it open quick and forced it onto the man. "Otherwise I will track you down with the fucking kid."

"Good. Whatever. I don't want herpes from you either." The man said hurriedly, too caught up to care. "Turn around" He grabbed Kurt's hips, holding his ass higher and positioned himself behind him.

Kurt knew that threat would work. He couldn't physically have kids but this moron didn't know that. He got on all fours and spread. He wasn't anywhere near wet enough.

Jack pushed into him, trying to go balls deep, but his cock was sliding in slowly as Kurt wasn't as lubricated as he should be. He withdrew from half a way and pushed again.

Kurt cried, shuddering at the pain of the tool pushing into him. He shuddered, his tears hitting the cold ground.

"You like it, don't you?" The man chuckled, pretending the gasps and cries were ones of pleasure, not pain. "Scream for me, whore" He speed up his thrusting.

Kurt bit down on his lip, drawing blood. He refused to do anything for this man. He prayed it would end fast.

Jack thrust into him couple more time, each harder than the last. He dug his fingers into Kurt's flesh, bruising the pale skin around his hips and grunted as he spilled into the condom.

Kurt collapsed, shaking in sobs. He couldn't do this. He couldn't handle smiling right now or even breathing.

Jack stood up and tugged himself into his pants. "Hey", he grunted, kicking Kurt's leg to get his attention. The man's whining and apathy was getting on his nerves. "I'll remember to tell Eddie what a great time we had. Surely he'll be jealous."

Kurt curled up away from the kick. He didn't even hear Jack or his words. He couldn't hear the promise of more of this coming.

The man scoffed at the lack of response. The whore can get moody all he wants. The others will get him to talk when they get him. "See you next time, Kurt." He said walking away.

Kurt wasn't sure how long he was there. He knew the sky was just lightened with the grey of dawn when he finally stood. By the time he reached his apartment he had only an hour before his day job. He showered, a simple wiping of his body, perfunctory and simplistic. He didn't think. Too much to do. Too many bills to pay, too much on his mind. He let the rote of the day keep him from dwelling.

As his day-job ended he sent a simple phone message to Dave. 'Are you still willing to buy me the gun?'


	11. Immutable, unchangeable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: talk about past non-con, violence  
> AN: For those who chose not to read chapter 10: Kurt was forced to have sex with Jack, a member of the local gang. He then contacted Dave with this text. 'Are you still willing to buy me the gun?'

Authors: karomeled and vkdemon

Dave knocked on the door of Kurt's apartment, swaying back and forth on his feet from excitement. Not only he was going to spend some more time with Kurt, but also teach him to defend himself. This time was special. And he was sure Kurt feel similar. At least last time he saw him, after picking the gun, he seemed pretty into the whole idea.

The door flew open, already bundled and ready, Kurt slammed it closed again behind him and locked it. "Let's go."

Dave rose an eyebrow at the cold greeting. "Well, good morning for you too. Did we wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?"

Kurt had barely slept since he got off work. He and Dave had selected a gun two weeks ago and they needed to clear Dave's identity before they would hand it over. Kurt had been perfect, all smiles and 'thank you's' and pleasantness to make sure the lummox shelled over the 200 bucks. He had gone to breakfast, flirted, gave suggestive little postures, everything to make sure Dave didn't back out. 

Two tense weeks, two weeks of running home, of hiding until the gang moved over to another corner, of sobbing and clutching his knees to his chest as he tried not to hyperventilate. He knew it was coming, the lump of steel that was his savior. He's swallowed his prize and acted like some gold-digging slut all over Dave. Today it paid off. He'd dressed in his best men's clothing, used the last of his good concealer to hide his dark ringed eyes, and prepped to hide one more time behind the mask. 

Now that Dave stood before him, that stupid puppyish smile in front of him he found not an ounce of patience left to give.

"Shut up and let's go, David." 

"As Your Highness wishes," Dave murmured and followed him to his car. He almost felt as if he was unwanted there. Nonsense. Kurt clearly craved the contact, the recent text messages stood as material proof. Dave watched the man as he buckled into his seat next to him. No reason for the change in behaviour came to his mind. After driving up to the range in silence, he stopped the car and looked at him. "Okay, what is your problem? If doing this is such an anguish maybe we should cancel."

"I just want to blow away some targets. Isn't that enough? I'm going along with your plan. Be happy and shut up." Kurt's voice was tense, not willing to calm enough to let Dave close.

Dave's hands slowly slid from the steering wheel on his tights, but after a moment of hesitation he shrugged and get out of the car. He thought Kurt and he would have fun, bond some more. The unjustified aloofness worked like a bucket of cold water on his excitement. Dave walked into the building without a word, sure that Kurt is following him, then registered at the reception and moved to the room with equipment, picking up headsets and glasses for himself and Kurt. Then they walked on the shooting hall, an Dave lead them to their booth.

Kurt placed the glasses on and then the headpiece over one ear so he could hear Dave's response. He looked out at the vaguely human shaped target. "How does this work?"

"You aim and then you shoot," Dave grunted. He fixed his headpieces so that it covered exactly the whole ear before doing the same with Kurt’s. He unlocked his gun, aimed at the target and shot several times. The white paper sheet blossomed with three dark blotches where his bullets went through lower abdomen and breast. He lowered the gun waiting for the sheet to drive to him so he could examine it and lecture Kurt on aiming. 

Kurt didn’t wait.

He aimed like they did in TV, with one hand. “No!” Dave yelped and grabbed Kurt's arm stopping him from firing. The recoil would snap Kurt's wrist if he tried that. Dave cursed himself mentally. He was supposed to help, not to let his spoiled mood get into the way and almost allow his friend to injure himself. 

Kurt jolted, the touch, a flash of fear crossing Kurt's eyes. He then looked up and it was David, warm, chocolate eyed David. The man handing him a gun. He wasn't going to hurt him. Kurt had lifted the earmuff from one ear so he could hear. 

"You can't do this like that! It's not a handgun, dude. Hold it like I did, with both hands." He held his gun closer to demonstrate the grip he had on it. "See here? You need to keep your fingers and hand out of the path of the slide, 'cause it can seriously pinch you. Not a pleasant feeling."

"Two hands."

"Yes." Dave smiled slightly. "And grip it firm." He stepped aside. "Oh, also, try to keep legs at the width of your shoulders." He motioned at Kurt's legs and pushed his leg between his, to kick them apart.

Kurt gasped, the solid weight of Dave's leg sending jolts of good and bad through him. He squared his shoulders and looked out at the target, the memory of another man between his legs made his jaw clench tight. "Got it."

Dave hovered over him, reaching his free hand to show last thing. "The sight alignment. Here, when you look, is this little gap. The target has to be in the middle of it, otherwise you're going to miss."

"Can't miss. Dead if I did." He lifted the gun lining the head of the target up.

"Now, press the trigger. Don't pull it, don't jerk it. Just sort of squeeze it, you'll feel the breaking point."

Kurt squeezed, the shot nicking the side of the target. He then shot again, and again, he shot until the clip was empty. His chest panted, sweat dripping down his cheeks mixing with the tears.

Dave laid a hand on Kurt's back. "You okay? I forgot to tell you to breathe." He joked, although Kurt's reaction was throwing him off. Who cries after missing a target for the first time?

"The bullets are called a clip right? Give me another." Kurt's voice didn't falter at all despite the tears.

Dave reached for another load and held his hand waiting for Kurt hand over the gun to him so he could reload. "No one really gets it at first, you know. You'll learn. You're doing good so far." He said, peeking at Kurt from above his outstretched hand.

Instead of allowing Dave he reached over and snatched the clip from his hand. Kurt slapped the clip in, pulled back the top and fired away. The same single minded intensity blinded him to anything but the target, the very male looking target. His cluster was closer together, hitting most of the proper places. 

"Another."

Dave whistled. "You're... improving. At rapid pace. You sure you don't want a break?"

"Give me the fucking clip, David!"

Dave furrowed his eyebrows. "You're panting and sweating already. You need a moment to calm down."

"Clip, now, DAVID!" He screamed, his face already red. His fallen tears had washed some of the concealer away, showing the dark circles.

Dave reacted without thinking. In a second, his gun was put down on the small table aside, and he grabbed Kurt into his arms, hugging him. The guy was scaring the shit out of him and he realized something must have happened. Something bad enough to make Kurt, his wonderfully, stupidly proud Kurt, cry in public.

Kurt fell into David's arms, not having the strength to hold himself up he shook and shook, the empty gun limp in his hands. "I'll kill him. I'll kill all of them."

"Shh." Dave cooed, caressing his back in circular motions. He held him close, letting him crying into his shirt. "You're safe, Kurt. You'll be safe." he whispered.

Kurt 's gun fell from his hand and both hands fisted in the fabric of Dave's shirt. He sobbed hard, the chocking whimpers shaking his thin body.

Dave waved away a concerned staff member who came to check on them. He stood there with Kurt in his arms, going through scenarios in his head on what could have happened. After Kurt's sobbing died down, they swayed for a moment in space, until Dave pressed a soft kiss on top of Kurt's head. "Do you want me to take you home?"

"I hate you." He whispered softly against Dave's warm body.

Dave tensed. The thought that he might have caused the breakdown... was making him sick. "I'm sorry" he whispered back. "I didn't mean to... do what I did."

"I could push it away. I didn't imagine being able to fight. I didn't dare. You made me want to, you fucking bastard!"

"I... you're not making much sense now." Dave reached to brush the resident wetness from Kurt's cheek. "I'm a fucking bastard for making you want to fight?"

"Yes!" Kurt insisted, his eyes fierce. "I could swallow it down, tuck it away and know it was just apart of this life. Immutable, unchangeable. It made it easier. You.. you make it harder!"

“What is that it you're talking about? I didn't mean to make anything harder for you! Look, we don't need to buy a gun if you're uncomfortable with it."

"No!" Kurt pushed away from Dave's arms and he darted for the gun. He held it tight against his chest. "No. I need it now, because of you I need it."

“Kurt." Dave swallowed hard seeing the desperate look in Kurt's eyes. He wasn't going to ask, but... "Kurt, what happened?"

"Jack caught me. It's not going to end now. I can control it at the club. There are bouncers and I work for pay, it's my choice."

Dave gritted his teeth. "When?"

"Before I texted you about the gun. I was coming home." Kurt, now that David wasn't going to take his weapon, eased just a little.

Two weeks ago. It was early evening. Kurt was attacked when Dave worked on stupid assignment he had to complete with other student. Kurt was raped when Dave was trying to figure out the best font for his presentation. He made a little whimpering voice, but caught himself quickly. Kurt needed him. Without a word, he reached for a new clip and gave it to Kurt.

Kurt loaded it up, the weight a comfort in his hand. "It will not happen again."

"It will not", Dave said sternly and turned towards the target to watch Kurt perfecting his aim.

~~~

"I think I might put this on the wall." Kurt held the final paper target out in front of him as he sat across from Dave at burger shop across from the shooting gallery. No one looked at them strange. Kurt admired the round of 6 shots that had all hit toward the center of the chest mark.

Dave smiled around his sandwich. The way Kurt could jump being moods was making his head hurt a little. After the incident inside the range, the man momentarily went into badass mode and blew off another few clips. Dave would be dishonest if he said he didn’t enjoy watching Kurt there. Today will certainly add more realism to his fantasies about Kurt the Cowboy. Dave swallowed the chunk of food abruptly and cleared his throat. Not a good time to get hard up. “Yeah... you do that. Will make an impression on guests for sure,” he managed to say over next bite.

"Remind stalkers to keep their hands to themselves." Kurt quirked an eyebrow before carefully folding the paper to place in his bag. 

Dave’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he put the burger down. “Someone has been following you? You know them?” He wiped the mustard off his lips with the back of his hand.

"Why? Are you going to try to beat them up?" Kurt could not believe Dave was in this much denial. With the gun in his bag Kurt didn't need to pander to Dave's little stalker complex a second longer. He liked Dave's company some moments, best to try to eliminate the other bits now.

“Hell yeah.” Dave’s face creased in anger. “Best to scare them off now, before they’ll try anything.”

"So I should pull the gun on any guy who oversteps?" Kurt let his face go blank, waiting.

“Sure,” Dave blundered in. “You know, someone just saying you have it will work.”

Kurt leaned forward and used his hand to make a gun. He pressed it against Dave's forehead.

Dave made a startled noise and swept his gaze over the room. “W-what are you doing? People will stare.”

"You overstep, David. Often." Kurt kept his voice calm. "You understand why I'm doing this?"

“No,” Dave said catching Kurt’s hand by the wrist and lowering it on the table. “Is this some kind of game?” He looked at Kurt as unpleasant feeling settled in his stomach. “I bought it so you could defend yourself from people force you to anything, not to just...” he flailed his hand in the air. 

"Not just what, Dave? Which part did you have a problem with; me seeing you as a stalker, or me telling you to back off?" Kurt snapped. How could Dave not actually understand how much power he'd carelessly wielded?

Dave scorned. “What the hell are you talking about?” He took a deep breath and leaned in. “Look, I told you I’m sorry for following you that night you run in with those bastards. And other times. But we talked about it, yeah? I had to protect you somehow.”

"It wasn't your responsibility. It wasn't what I wanted from you. I didn't want you getting involved in my life." Kurt enunciated every word. "Why aren't you letting me have choice about my life?"

“Because I care about you. What do you want me to say? You want me to be like, yeah, Kurt, sure, be a whore, everything is going to be okay. Or do you want me to actually help?” Dave threw out, his voice beginning to gain the sharp quality when he was irritated.

"I never wanted your help to begin with. Your help comes with a price. It comes with you reminding me you think being a whore is despicable. It comes with having to make myself pleasant, malleable, and calm and to be sure to not trigger a tripwire in your mine field of homophobia and upper middle class morality." Kurt's voice jumped into his highest range. "You have no idea how it feels to one moment have a friend and the next to have him tell me I'm somehow lesser than him."

Dave’s face fell. “I-I don’t understand. Kurt, please, listen. “His hand reached over the table to lay on the smaller one. ”I don’t think you’re worse than me, it’s all about the place you are in. If you’d just...”

Kurt took his hand away. "If I just what Dave? I've listened to what you think, what you tell me to do. Most of it is useless. It's a bunch of talk about how you think I'm better than this place. How you think I should stop whoring, how I should go back to get schooling. What are you doing? What guilt are you carrying around that you think you need to come into my life and try to change it?"

Dave’s jaw worked. He sat back in his seat and said slowly, “You made me believe you like me.”

"I do. I'm not your pet prostitute to raise from the streets and make you feel like a savior. How about you treat me like an equal." Kurt's hand went over his bag as he watched Dave's anger. Years of learning how to tell a client's mood shift set off alarms in Kurt's head. If he saw that expression on a trick he'd be trying to get away before the blows could fall.

“Give me my gun back,” Dave said and reached out a hand. He felt surprisingly calm, as if he was actually watching the scene from side.

"Why? Am I less worthy of its protection now?" Kurt's head tilted, his eyes sharp as they cut into the man across from him. "The poor street kitten has claws now, are you planning to declaw it and send it back on the streets?"

Dave sat in silence for a long moment, sustaining the eye contact. Finaly, he spoke. “Gun.”

Kurt gulped, realizing that he didn't have a choice. The gun was under Dave's name. If the man wanted he could go report it stolen and throw Kurt's ass in jail. Fuck. He sneered and grabbed the piece from his bag and placed it on the table between them.

Dave grabbed the bag and slid it to himself over the table. He opened and took the gun out. “You need to clean it at least once a year and after every time you use it,” he started in a bored voice. He grabbed the butt of the gun with one hand and placed the other under the rifle, fumbling with something. The slide was pushed back as he took out a thin pin from the gun and then dissembled it with ease by removing the slide. After a moment, he put it back together. “Just make sure it’s unloaded first,” he said dropping the weapon back into the box. “Goodbye, Kurt.” Dave moved out of their booth.

Kurt watched the gun, then the back of the man leaving. He'd actually listened... Kurt swallowed. "What do you know... sometimes neanderthals can learn." Kurt knew his voice was bitter. Dave had been a friend, one he laughed with. It just wasn't worth what having to swallow his pride and tongue. Kurt gently returned box and gun to his bag. "Thank you, David."


	12. How Not To Be Rapists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: sexism, graphic violence, attempted non-con, discussion of rape culture

Dave shoved the keys into his pocket and said goodbye to Kyle. His roommate was blessed with a lot of homework so he was going to skip the party. He got to the point where he actually envied writing effing essays and presentations. Anything he could use as an excuse to stay put.

After everything that happened with Kurt the last thing he wanted was to go out. He wasn’t in the mood to pretend to have fun with his mates on normal days but after Kurt and he broke things off... He couldn’t imagine enjoying himself ever again. 

He took the first day for himself, ditching his classes and spending the day face down in bed being miserable. He swung between anger and self-loathing enough times to make himself sick. On the second day he had a test that he probably failed. He'd spent the day wondering if Kurt had used the gun on some unsuspecting client who tried to get more than he payed for. He spent the night wondering why Kurt didn’t use it on him. On the third day he showered at the insistence of his roommate. On the fifth he answered Azimio's sixth voice message asking where he was. Another two days of avoiding Azimio's party plans and he was caught.

So Saturday evening Dave found himself entering a dorm of a guy he barely knew to celebrate his birthday. He stiffed a sigh and slipped the mask on. 

The party was already started, the beer flowing freely. Azimio saw Dave as he came in and pressed a flat tire into his hand. "Big D. Almost thought you were going to try to dodge this. Again."

"Nah, I would never", Dave stretched his lips in a smile. "What's up, man? I see the party’s on."

"There's a big surprise comin' soon. I almost thought you were going to miss it. Greg only turns 21 once and I got some special treats hooked up for him."

"Cool", Dave took a gulp of a beer to cut the conversation. Shit, how little he exactly had to talk with his best friend recently? No matter how much he tried, all his thoughts were tracing back to Kurt-related topics, and that obviously could not be discussed.

Azimio flopped back on one of the ratty frat house couched, tugging Dave down beside. "So that bitch Cheryl didn't work out." Azimio told Dave everything, about every girl, about classes, about home. He never noticed most of his friendship was him talking and Dave listening.

"Dude, admit you just scared her off with your ugly mug." Dave sat beside him, smiling and happy to get on with the mutual insult. Some resemblance of their former acquaintance at least.

"I am beauuuutiful and you know it. Nah, she was all up on me for not wanting to be exclusive. I was all 'bitch, I ain't showed you to my momma. Why you think we exclusive after a few bangs and Denny's once?' Seriously, man." 

Dave pretended to choke on his beer. "You mean there was another girl desperate enough to let you bang her?" It earned him a shoulder punch with a grin. Dave shoved him back, but then got serious. "You know, you should talk it through first, not cheat on her."

"Never said we were exclusive. Not my fault she assumed."

"I'm just saying, man. Not that I want to preach to you or whatever. But not everyone has a chance to be in a relationship when they want to. It's kind of a big deal, dontcha think?"

"Yeah, maybe." Azimio's sighed, his voice deeper as he turned to honestly consider it. "I know one day some chick is going to wrap me around her finger and boom, that's life. Hen-pecked forever... Just like my daddy."

"Can't wait to see it." Dave grinned. "Maybe if I'm happy, you'll get one determined enough that she'll put you in a cute little apron so I'll have to snatch a ton of photos for facebook."

"I hate you, man."

Dave cackled loudly and took a sip of his beer. He looked around the room and the gathering of people in the middle caught his attention. "Hey, what's up with that? Someone's giving out free ipods or what?"

"Shit, it's show time. Come on, man." He whistled and tugged on Dave to get in the crowd. A large box with a huge bow on the top was labeled for the birthday boy. The frat brother was grinning and holding the side ready to pull it. as soon as the top fell two thin heavily make-uped girls bounced up. One was in a cleavage version of the school's cheer team. The other was in cut off jean shorts and a low slung top.

Dave was slightly taken aback by the surprise. He heard of it, of course. Everyone who watched at least one college comedy must have. The men around him started whistling and whooping and it send him an unpleasant flashback of a dim, cheap club with a blue-eyed passing-for-female stripper. "That's the gift you talked about?"

"Yep. He's been talking about wanting to have a lap dance, but he was too young for the club. And well the second one is to dance for the rest of us."

Dave cleared his throat. "Is this really necessary?"

“Course man. Look how happy he is." He motioned to where Greg's hand was coming down playfully on the stripper's rear end.

"Dude! He shouldn't just grope her like that." Dave grimaced. "Didn't they send any bouncers with those girls?"

"Tell me you don't want to tap that fine piece of ass." Azimio looked away from the show to give a Look. "Nah? Hell should I know man."

Dave gritted his teeth. "She's not just a piece of ass for you to tap." He drank from the bottle. He wanted to intervene, punch the guy for getting handsy and send those girls off. But, fuck, he was a guest here and his friend was right beside, eyeing him suspiciously. Dave watched the performance in silence, integrity compromised for a beer. He was just one of the guys. Being one of the guys meant you weren't supposed to mention when girls got called whores and treated like lesser beings. One of the guys would never call out a friend on throwing gay slurs around like party favors. He'd done it for years, just blended in for the sake of reputation. For the right to sit here and watch girls get used while to had a drink with Azimio. He threw the empty bottle under the table, making sure to bump shoulder into his friend.

Azimio let Dave sit in peace for a few minutes as the girls showed their attention to the birthday boy. They rubbed against him, writhing to the pulsing beat of the music. To Dave's horror Azimio's meaty hand was crooking a finger at the daisy-duke themed woman. She trotted over, tits first, right into Azimio's grinning face.

"Nah, nah, sexy. My boy Dave here is a little down." He handed over a five that she deftly slipped into her bra before sliding toward Dave. 

"Don't be sad, big boy." She purred, unknowingly mimicking the nickname Kurt had used for him.

Dave’s eyes swept over jutted hips and curvy breast. “Take a break, Beautiful. ‘m not interested,” he said leaning back on the couch.

She shrugged and moved on to the next grouping of guys. Azimio stared at the Dave and then at the hot ass swishing away and then back at Dave. "Dude, why don't you just jump right out of the closet and throw a fucking pride parade with a rainbow boa while you're at it. Fuck, dude!" 

“What!” Dave growled turning to him. “I never asked you to get her. You’re going to decide now who I mess around with?”

"Hot chick. Willing to get on you. I don't get your problem. You know I'm starting to think you're hiding something big and probably rainbow-striped from me. Seriously how can you not want to touch that ass?"

“She’s a prostitute,” Dave lowered his voice so it was barely audible in the room filled with music. “That not enough of a reason for you?”

"Hot chick. It's just like live porn, alright? If you want to get some girl to be take home to momma material then I can tell her to play up the innocence." Azimio tried to help...

“Fuck, why are you such a jerkhole tonight.” Dave crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna just use some random to get off.”

"The fuck is your problem, dude?" Azimio took a swig of his beer. "She's getting paid for it. Ain't like she's being forced." 

"Oh, right!" Dave spat. "Because obviously money makes it okay and not grosser. And what the fuck do you know about her? Maybe she can’t do different!"

"Woah! Dave, chill!" Azimio hissed and tried to get Dave to lower his voice. "I don't know the girl from Eve. All I know is she gives sex for money."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Dave huffed and and tugged a new bottle from pack, tearing the bag in the process. "You're writing into this whole business based on handing people around."

"Dude... What happened man? I didn't see you caring when you got the same."

Dave’s lips thinned. He shook his head. Azimio shouldn't see him like this. He shouldn't have exploded because of a nameless hooker he would never see again.

"I didn't care then but I do now. Whatever." He said dismissing the topic.

"Okay..." Azimio let it drop but he watched Dave out of the corner of his eye the rest of the night. 

~~*~~

Two days later a plate from Panda Express with Mongolian Beef and a Coke was slid in-front of him and Azimio sat down with his own food on the other side of the booth.

"So, what's her name?"

Dave tensed immediately, scrambling to remember what chick he was supposed to be banging recently. "What...? I..." He reached out for the food just to have something to do with his hands. "Who's name?"

"The hooker you're sweet on."

Dave froze, casted an glance at Azimio and quickly adverted his eyes when he met Azimio’s. He chuckled before sinking teeth into a piece of meat. "You’re one hilarious fucker. What brought this on?” He asked wiping lips with top of his hand.

"It might have been your femi-nazi rant in the middle of a kegger. Look Dave you want to jump into women's rights and rape culture go ahead but the last fucking place you do it is a frat party. That's a great way to get bashed." Azimio calmly bit into his rice as if he hadn't just used an anti-feminism slut and proper feminist terminology all in the same breath.

Dave gaped at him, not sure how to take this. “Do I need to have hots for a whore to be grossed out with the whole deal?" He said finally.

"No. But you gotta have some reason for the sudden turn around. People don't change so fast. Takes time."

Dave sat silent for a moment. “I don’t think I changed for the better.”

"No? How'd you change then? Other than losing your sense of timing. Seriously there's a place to talk about that crap and it ain't at a party. If you had a problem like that I wouldn't have got you to come. I was trying to save your rep."

Dave snorted and pushed the plate away. “That’s it? You’re just being a good Christian boy and looking out for your friends like your momma told you too?”

"Something like that. Learned early on you don't fit in, you dead meat. Plenty can go wrong in Lima if you're black and not one of the guys." It was rare for Azimio to get serious. He was usually all jokes and shit eating grins. "It's about survival. You know this by now."

Dave cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like an idiot. Of course Azimio was just trying to have his back. In his own, fucked up way, but still. He wiped the sweat off palms of his hands on his jeans, feeling the food he just consumed settling heavy on his stomach.

"Elizabeth."

Azimio's eyes went wide and his typical grin showed right back up. "That's the girl I bought you? She that good?"

Dave dragged a hand over his face. He could feel his cheeks burning. "Yeah. S...she's good."

"Good enough you went back... plenty. You want to talk about it?"

He scoffed. "Talk about what? Thanks, I don’t need to have a freaking therapist in you. I'm just saying, have some fucking respect for girls like those."

"No, I mean it man. You're upset. Tell your bro. We've always told eachother everything."

Dave took a deep breath. He searched for safe bits of information he could divulge. There was so little to work with. "She's working in that club and doesn't have any chance to change that. Nothing much to say, really."

"So what? She's poor. She could just work a day job if she didn't like the pole. Or is she crying the blues trying to get extra money out of you?"

Dave’s face scrunched in a grimace. Kurt needed to be talked into getting effing bagels, he was no gold-digger. Way too proud for his own good. Dave felt like slapping the doubtful look off Azimio’s face. 

"It's not that simple, okay?” He said. “Not many places will take someone without even a High School diploma."

"Oh." Now Azimio never considered someone not making it through High School. Just seemed basic. "That's not smart. Why the hell didn't she get it? It's not that hard."

Dave rolled his eyes over the man’s ignorance. "Well she just didn't, okay? She run away from home and that's it. Not everyone has parents who spoiled the shit out of them as yours."

"Jesus, don't bite my head off. I'm tryin' here.” 

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Dave mumbled. “See, this is fucking exhausting. I don’t mean to snap at you every two minutes, man.”

"Devil's advocate always gets the shit. We good." Azimio gave him that grin that said Dave was not catching on to the game fast enough. "So she ran away, and what, just thought stripping was a good option? Why didn't they do a missing persons? Or fostercare."

"They did. They looked for her, just didn't find her in time."

"You sound like you know them. So why didn't she go back? Her papa alcoholic? Or he hit her? You know I can get the police up on this if you're trying to track her relatives down."

Dave shrugged and swept his hand though the air as if waving the ideas away. "Drop it, man. She didn't and that's all you have to know."

"Nope. Who is she?"

"A stripper and a prostitute," Dave said it harsher than he meant to. He felt the perspiration damping his skin. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. He shouldn’t have said a word. He shouldn’t have fucking waded so far into this. But not being able to share with anyone, not even his friend, was getting to him more than he previously realized. Damn it. 

"I didn't know her before that night at club. You want to be any help? Stop making me feel like I'm in a fucking interrogation."

"Dave." Azimio's voice was soft. "Just level with me. She underage or something?"

"She's not," Dave sighed. "It doesn't make her any less unavailable for me."

"Wait.... You got turned down by a whore?" Azimio was trying really hard not to laugh.

Dave sent him a hard look, his hand still itching to do that punch Az had coming. "So what if I did?"

"Must have been one tough gal." He smirked.

"Whatever. I worry about her, but there's nothing I can do. Not really. So, there. You wanted an update on my life."

"So she's poor, has it hard and you're following her around like a puppy because she was your first? Damn, man, she must be annoyed with you all the time."

"She wasn't my first! I had plenty of chicks before her!" Dave snarled. Yeah, he should just out himself, so the lovely dinner could really go down into history. "And I'm try not to follow. Too much," he added as an afterthought.

"Bullshit. You ain't had no one. If you did I woulda been the first to know. "

"Like I never told you about them. Come on. I trust you with this fucking thing that doesn't let me sleep at nights you get all caught up on how many pussies I've seen?" 

"You don't sleep over this? Damn, man." Azimio wasn't budging. "Why do you care so much?"

Dave look down on his hands, folded on the table, and wondered if he’ll ever forget the feel of Kurt’s skin under his fingertips. He hoped not. "I think I love her," he said quietly.

"Well shit..." Azimio rubbed a hand over his eyes. His best friend in the world was in love with just about the worst option for his white bread upper middle class family to accept. At least it was a girl. Azimio nodded and started trying to form a plan."Well... shit. So you try to help her out yet?"

"She doesn't want it. She thinks it’s charity. Not much I can do, really." He decided to skip the part about a gun because... well. He didn't trust Azimio enough. 

"Fuck that, man. If you really love her you gotta get her out. Isn't there a woman's shelter or something off campus?" Azimio had abandoned his food and tugged out of his backpack a separate binder from the rest of his classes with the innocuous words 'School Shit' written on the front. "I think she gave us a pamphlet," he said distractedly.

Dave looked surprised, at the colorful folders and stacks of notes. "Did you steal it from some freshman? I know you take hazing seriously, but it’s better to give it back by the end of the day.”

"No, man, I'm taking this class. If you tell anyone I will tell them all you wet the bed until you were 11." He let out a victory cry. "Finally! Okay here. This is about women's shelters and their services.... Why are you looking at me like my head just spun round and I started puking pea soup?"

Dave let out a breathy laugh. “You might as well. What kind of class even is this?” He grinned. “Dude, no one will believe you when I’m done talking about how Big Z plays a volunteer in homeless centers.”

"Dude, I do not volunteer... at homeless shelters. It's part of the class. I go to schools and help out with the afterschool program. Shut up. It's a requirement of the class."

Dave cackled. “So you’re just boring kids to death in schools. Sure, that’s way better.”

"No, I'm mentoring kids on how not to be rapists and racists." Azimio flipped Dave off. "It's a good class so can you shut it while I try to educate your fat, love struck ass?"

Dave’s grin slipped from his face. “Yeah. Teach me.”

"Okay, so there are free shelters specifically for women. They can stay there while they are looking for jobs. They prioritize beds for mothers so if she's got kids that helps her there. You know if she's a legal resident? There's a few placed that help with citizenship applications and this one..." Azimio produced a long green flyer. "Is assistance to pay for a GED program so she can get her diploma. And I know there's more but this is what the teacher talked about. I can ask for more."

“Oh." Dave looked at the papers in astonishment. "So people can just go there and live? For free?” He took one of the flyers in his hand. “I may check it out, thanks. Doubtful she'll agree for that though."

"I think so. I don't know enough about how it functions to tell you. But I can get you in contact with Mia. She's all up on this."

“That’s your teacher?” Dave compared the rules listed on the flyer with other one.

"Look, my girl... or.. future girl... or girl who is way out of my league right now, whatever. She's a women's studies major. She was always yacking about shelters and volunteering. I'll ask her if she knows what to do."

Dave smiled. “So I’m not the only love-struck fatass in here.” He teased. "Sure. You do that. And... thank you. Really." 

"Bros protectin' their hos." 

~~*~~ 

Kurt's life had shifted. 

The weight was the worst part. It was heavy, pulling on his shoulder as if the hunk of metal held all of the fears dragged Kurt along the ground. Kurt could divide up his fears before, sprinkle them across his skin so each bit of him only had to carry a fraction of their weight. The fear of being jumped on the street used to settle on his bobbing throat, the fear of being beat on his fingers clenching around his bag strap, the too light wallet to cover all utilities pressed on the back of his tired eyelids. The fear of being once again forced to take a man into him with a fake smile pressed into his brain to jump back out with shaking hands at the worse time. 

The gun in his bag took all of those fears and made them one living terror. 

Kurt slid his hand into the bag, pale fingers running over the hard steel, remind himself of its existence as he crossed the street at the light. 

He didn’t notice a silhouette standing up from a bench he passed. The man inhaled the cigarette and a spark on the end of it glittered briefly in the dark evening. The filterless Bond was thrown on the pavement and stepped on when the man followed after Kurt. The moment later, someone else joined the person, straightening from leaning on the wall of a grocery shop. He followed Kurt until the crossword of 65th and 67th streets, until they were couple blocks and one pathway through a park from his building. In the deserted obscurity of the groove more people waited.

“Hello there, again,” Eddie walked on the path before him.

Kurt's hand curled around the steel, pulse jumping. Eddie, leader of the gang that ruled these blocks stopped his forward motion. Jack, with the smirk that Kurt remembered all too well, hovered behind him as he turned his head to find an escape. He found his path back to the main streets blocked. Shit. Kurt turned back to face Eddie, his spine straight.

"Out of jail again, Eddie? I thought they wanted to keep you for good."

“No, you see, I was such a good boy they decided to let me go earlier.” The man smirked as he came closer. “They were just so touched by my successful rehabilitation.”

"I'm sure you're putting the transformation to good use, volunteering at an animal shelter perhaps?" Kurt couldn't back up without finding himself against Jack so he held his ground. 

“Actually, no. I’m more interested in keeping the streets safe for good taxes paying citizens, and free from the scum.” He swept his eyes over Kurt’s body. “Speaking of, how are you doing? You still that rich boy's bitch to avoid playing with me? Hurts my feelings.” He accented the last word and the boys started snickering.

Kurt' skin pricked hearing the voices. It wasn't just Jack then... Two more voices maybe three. That made five men all together. He'd never been forced to deal with that many at once. The steel pulsed in his hand as the memory of the words they'd used over and over circled his mind. He was nothing to them, a fuckdoll, a bitch, a whore, a freak, a toy. And now he'd pissed them off. It wouldn't be the first time one of the girls went missing and turned up days later, if anyone even bothered to look for her body. The grip slid into his palm and he pulled back the hammer as quietly as he could manage while it was still in his bag.

Eddie narrowed his eyes, and looked up at the man behind Kurt. “Go back up the street while I take care of the princess here,” he said and his cronies walked couple steps away. 

Eddie backed Kurt against a tree. His hand jolted to Kurt’s face and grabbed him by the chin. “You’re too good to answer me?” His grip tightened painfully.

Kurt smiled bitterly. "I always was and always will be. You remember what you told me the first time? That it was my duty to take you me because I was a bitch-whore? Do you remember how I shook?" 

"Not sure, bitches like you are a dime a dozen. One hole is just like another." Eddie's free hand started to grope at Kurt's hip. Kurt closed his eyes and force himself to keep going. He dug the muzzle of the gun into Eddie's chest. Kurt pulled the trigger.

"I think you need to understand what feeling something ripping through you feels like. Feels like hell doesn't it, Eddie?"

The man’s eyes widened comically, he looked down and pressed a palm of his hand to his heart. Then came the pained groan, and Eddie slumped to the ground before Kurt. The bang of a shot ricocheted between the trees and frozen in astonishment people. Their eyes locked on Kurt and the gun in his hand.

“She fucking killed him,” one of the gang members mumbled, breaking the silence.

Blood from the wound had smeared on the tip of the gun muzzle. Kurt's adrenaline was spiked but somehow the world seemed to be moving in slow motion. He turned, both hands on the hilt of the gun. A single eyebrow raised as he pointed the gun to Jack.

"Who else wants to put me in my place?"

“Whoa, easy,” a man on the left, Frank, raised both arms. Others started shuffling in as well, faces twisted with rage. “It’s okay, girl, no need to do things you’re going to regret,” Frank said coming up closer, hands still up. 

Kurt knew they'd try to get the gun from him and he'd never make it out alive. "Too late."

Another shot rang through the air, lodging itself into Frank's shoulder. Kurt found more than a small satisfaction with the sound he let out. Two down, three left.

Frank fell to his knees and clenched hand over the wound trying to tame the bleeding. “You fucking whore,” he spat furiously. “Why the fuck are you waiting, get her!” He yelled at the other men. They stared between each other and Kurt and the gun and then at Frank and each other again. 

“Fuck it,” one of them said before running away.

Jack used that moment and launched himself at Kurt, rough hands clenching on Kurt’s thin wrists, and steering them up above his head.

Kurt fired again, but it missed by a mile when Jack grabbed him. He arched up, his sharp knee coming up to connect with Jack's nuts. Kurt's body thrashed, the long muscles strong from dancing. He managed to get a hand free to claw into Jack's eye.

The man scowled in pain and loosened the grip on Kurt’s wrists, letting them slip away, but managed to sent an elbow into Kurt's ribs. The other man jumped into to the fight, trying to catch the gun out of Kurt’s hand.

Kurt held tight to it, refusing to let his only protection go. The elbow was enough to knock wind from him. He thrashed as best he could, lines of red from his nails scratched bright lines on Jack's cheek. Thankfully someone had decided to call the cops. Or maybe there was a completely unrelated call, either way the sirens resounded in the night.

Jack jumped at the sound of upcoming police. The nameless one dropped his attempts at ambushing Kurt first, and run away cursing. Jack wasn’t set on that just yet, but the blue red lights sobered him up. He swung a fist to Kurt’s face in the last try.

Kurt couldn't stop the blow. He heard his own voice shouted in pain. The lights came closer and by the time Kurt regained his mind to open his eyes, the man was gone, as was the weight on his chest. Slowly, he sat up. The body of Eddie lay behind him limp. There was a trail of blood from where Frank ran away. The police lights moved away from him, having come to respond to a different call. 

They weren't coming for him. Kurt stared at the blood under his nails. They should be coming for him. Eddie's body lay in a heap and Kurt's eyes narrowed. 

They will be coming for him. 

Kurt had killed, murdered. He already had a record for a few counts of prostitution he'd barely wiggled out of. He'd never survive jail. 

Kurt ran.


	13. Playing the Victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of past abuse and sexual assaults

Kurt cuddled tight into the barely existent privacy divider. He opened his palm and counted out one quarter and a penny. It was 25 cent to make the call. He looked again over the campus directory. Why were there so many buildings. There was east dorms... and west dorms and somewhere were frat houses. He wasn't even sure he'd found the right school. He needed at least a dollar 25 to get back on the buss to take him to the train depo. He needed to get help. He could still feel the weight of the gun in his hand even thought it was long since stowed.

Fingers stumbled over the number pad. It took him five times to dial the right number. Kurt's pale fingers were ashen as they gripped the receiver. "Please... please... please..."

Dave’s phone ran, just after he walked into his room. He nodded a greeting at Kyle, and lounged himself on his bed, taking the cell from his pocket. The unknown number sent a jolt of trepidation through him. Those meant bad things, he learnt recently.

“Hallo?” He asked warily pressing the device to his ear.

"Dave! Dave, Dave, Dave." Kurt's voice cracked as the name rolled off his lips like a prayer. "Need you, Dave, they're coming, there's after I did... I can't go home. Find me, Dave."

“Wow, what, slow down!” Dave sat up, frowning. “Kurt? Where are you?”

"Tried to find... you're not... You're supposed to go here. I can't." Kurt's breathing was shallow. He hadn't been able to catch his breath since the gun went off.

“Kurt. Kurt! Calm down,” Dave said firmly, ignoring the questioning looks his roommate was sending him. “Where. Are. You. You have to tell me or I won’t find you.” He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible but fear was gnawing at his mind, supplying him with terrifying images explaining Kurt’s state.

"School. Your college." Kurt processed the calm of Dave's voice more then the actual words. "I came to your school but it's huge and I don't know where anything is."

“Wait, you’re on my campus? Why?” Dave stood up and grabbed his jacket. “You know, nevermind, I’m coming for you.” 

“Dude, something wrong?” Kyle sat up alarmed by the paleness of Dave’s face. “Can I...” He started but Dave waved him away, and walked out the door.

“Stay there, Kurt, I’ll be right there.” Dave mumbled into the phone running down the stairs. “Where are you, exactly, do you remem...” The line went dead. 

"Dave!"

Kurt felt his panic spike right back up. He dropped the receiver, scrambling in his bag for more change. He found a nickle and two pennies and the phone call was at least 25 cent. He up-ended his bag. A clank alerted him to his error. The blood tipped gun clattered to the ground. 

"Shit. No, no, get back in there!" His hands dropped the weapon twice before he managed to shove it back into the bag. He stumbled away from the little exposed phone booth, his eyes frantic. Thankfully it was late enough that no one was wandering around campus.

Dave cursed ugly, rushing out of the building. He turned left right after the exit, out of habit, and froze in place realizing he didn’t know where to go. He spun helplessly around, scanning the small square in front of his dorm, and whined at how deserted it was. The street lamps shaded some light at the center of it and the main paths, but aside from that the territory was immersed in darkness. Dave clenched the phone in his hand until it became painful. Kurt was here, on the campus grounds, scared, desperate enough to search for Dave’s help. Maybe couple feet from him, maybe a half an hour walk away. And Dave was here too, completely useless, shifting back and forth in front of his dormitory. Dave kicked the trashcan, interrupting the silence of the night with a loud bang and a hiss of pain. 

Pain. Pain was good. It help him focus. Dave winced straightening his toes and looked at the situation with a clear mind for the first time since receiving the call. If Kurt was calling him from a cell phone, he could be anywhere and it’ll take a while and some luck to find him. But he also could have used one of the two ancient phone booths that were on the campus. He clung to that thought, and began to run to where the closest one was situated.

Kurt was sitting on the curb right beside the payphone. His body was rocking back and forth, the bare arms rubbed up and down by long fingers. Kurt's nails hand made long lines of red across his skin but he couldn’t feel it anymore.

Dave rushed to the small crosswords next to a fountain, where he remembered the yellow booth, calling out Kurt’s name in a hushed voice. And there he was, a tiny figure rested by the phone, trembling so hard he could see it fro afar. Dave slowed down. He stepped towards the man, careful to not scare him. “Kurt?” He asked softly standing next to him.

Despite the gentle tone Kurt jumped near out of his skin. His hand went to the gun in his bag. Before he could pull it out of its safe-haven he recognized Dave. The gun was forgotten and Kurt flung himself full bodied at the source of safety. He broke into loud sobs against Dave's warm neck.

Dave’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around the thin frame. His mind followed after a second and Dave started murmuring some reassuring nonsense. “It’s okay, babe, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He figured he had to wait until Kurt calms down before asking questions, even though the urge to find out what happened wasn’t giving him a rest.

Kurt's breathing slowed. His tears eased. His shaking hands only tremored gently. "I didn't know where else to go."

“It’s okay,” Dave repeated once more, the blankness in his mind making it hard to search for other words of comfort. “God, I thought I’ll never see you again” he said into Kurt’s neck.

"I killed someone." It tumbled from Kurt like a bullet train.

Dave tightened the embrace. “Are you hurt?” He leaned back to examine Kurt’s face.

Kurt looked up at him, his cheek blotched with blues and yellow from the bruises. The talking had reopened his lip to pull a line of blood down his mouth. Dave turned them slightly so the closest street lamp shaded some light on Kurt’s face and he gasped after getting a closer look. “Who did this to you?” His voice from soft went to furious. 

"The one I didn't shoot... Dave, didn’t you hear me? I killed them... him... I shot more than one. It just happened so fast and they cornered me and.... I had the gun."

Dave pressed him to his chest when the information sank in. “By them you mean...” He wanted to make sure even though he was certain who Kurt used his gun at. “Did someone see you?”

Kurt nodded, turning his body into Dave's arms. "Five of them. I couldn't just.. let them. I wasn't going to survive."

Dave swallowed nervously. “Kurt? Do you still have the gun?” God, if someone found it. They would trace them down.

"In my bag. I... it has blood... I... it's on me too... Oh God." The panic threatened a resurface. "Fuck, Dave, they're probably searching for me!"

“It’s okay.” Dave said again, feeling like a idiot for not being able to say something, anything, else. Dave hugged Kurt one more time, and took his hand. “Come with me,” he said and turned to pick up the bag. “I’m taking you to my place.”

Kurt stayed tucked close to Dave. He couldn't care less about keeping Dave distant, or maintaining appearance. He was terrified and Dave seemed the only hope. "I shouldn't have come."

"Why?" Dave frowned. "You didn't have anywhere to go. And this is all my fault, so..." his voice drifted off. He'll let the emotions catch up to him later. Now all mattered was Kurt. He let the man towards the entrance of the building.

"You don't need this. It's my choice. I could have let..." Kurt stared at the door to the dorms. He used to imagine what college would be like. Get out of Ohio, dorm with other boys like him who liked musicals and real culture.... It was like a door to a words he's been locked out of so long ago. "This is it?"

“No. We’re in this together.” Dave halted and looked at the doors. “Yeah,” he gave a squeeze to Kurt’s hand. “Look, we’re not supposed to have visitors this late. You have to pretend like you live here. Don’t look at the reception, just walk straight to the stairs, ok?”

Kurt straightened, moving a step away from Dave to seem autonomous rather then a boyfriend hanger-on. 

Dave smiled at the old receptionist entering his dormitory. The guy was pretty chill, didn’t get work up when Dave forgot to give back the key for washing room and such. Dave definitely preferred him over the harpy working there on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. They climbed up the stairs. The man didn't even notice them go by.

In the sharp corridor light Dave could see the dry blood on Kurt’s chin and cheek clearly. The boy looked terrible, and Dave just wished he could press a time-travel button and make everything better. But he wasn’t even sure if he’s allowed to do anything more than giving Kurt a place to stay. 

“So this is it. My roommate’s probably still up.” Dave looked helplessly at Kurt, not able to bring himself to explain what that implication meant to him. _God, I’m basically going to come out in less than a minute._ Funny how it was actually the least of his problems. “But don’t worry about him,” he plastered a confident smile on his face and opened the door.

Kyle was changing to sleep clothes with his back turned to door. He pulled a wife-beater over the lean muscles of his stomach when they walked in. 

“You kinda freaked me... Holy crap.” His movement halted when he noticed Kurt and the blood smeared on his face. Kyle’s eyes jumped between Dave and the stranger. “Fuck, man, you were beaten up?” He asked Kurt.

Kurt hadn't been ready to face another person. Sure, Dave had warned him, but his brain wasn't processing fast enough to steel himself. He immediately stepped back from the question, from the new and unknown person in his already shaken world. 

Dave took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Then closed it. He glanced at Kurt was standing helplessly next to him, and moved to close the doors behind him.

“Should we call cops or..” 

“No!” Dave said louder than he meant to. “No cops.” He protectively rested a hand on the small of Kurt’s back. “Look, this is Kurt. He’s staying with us for a while.” It wasn’t a request. Dave knew he wasn’t being fair, the room was just as much Kyle’s as it was his. He stared at his roommate. Fuck, he wished now that he knew more about him. He wished he wasn’t so damn guarded all the time when interacting with the other guys here. Dave scrubbed his memory for details about the other man. He was rather quiet. Visiting family more often than others. And... Dave barely kept himself from sharp intake of breath. Going to church ever Sunday. Roman Catholic. Fuck, they were screwed. He’d get pissed and file a complaint to the administration. After all, students were not permitted to bring in any new tenants without passing it by the Rooming Section. And they definitely weren’t allowed to bring in dwellers not registered as students at the University. One complaint from Kyle and Kurt would be out. Shit, it would probably bring the school security to remove Kurt and all hell would break loose. 

“Sure, no problem.” Kyle murmured, still distraught by the visitor. “You’re okay?” He asked again. “We don’t have aid kit or any shit like that,” he said to Dave.

“I know,” Dave said quietly. He gently took Kurt’s chin in his hand and examined his face again. He caressed the cheek tenderly. 

Kurt tried not to flinch away from the touch. He couldn’t speak yet, his eyes are still trained on the roommate. 

“Come to the bathroom, we need to clean you up.” Dave picked up some items they’ll need, and leaded Kurt to the communal bathroom on the end of their floor.

The room was large, five shower stalls only separated by a thin plastic drape. The sinks lined the opposite wall. Slightly portioned off by a half-wall was a urinal. Kurt clutched his bag, not willing to leave it in the room with the roommate. He placed it beside a sink. "Your roommate will call the cops."

“No, he won’t.” Dave said firmly, heading to one of the stalls. “He agreed for you to stay, right? We don’t need to worry about him for now.” He reasoned with Kurt and himself. Dave took out a hand-chief from his bag and soaked it under the shower. He motioned Kurt to sit on a small stool used usually for people to lay their items on when they were changing. He held his chin, and chafed reluctantly at the dried blood on it.

Kurt had to accept Dave’s assistance. What else could he do? His eyes shut as Dave tended to his wound. His face tensed at each jolt of pain from even that light touch. His life had spiraled out of control. He was running from the police, a murderer, begging a trick of his for help, and dragging Dave into this whole situation. He couldn't go back to his apartment out of fear the gang would come looking for him. At least he had a few days before they would try to seek him out. 

Kurt couldn't have said when Dave undressed him, he couldn't have spoken of how his body shook. All he knew was there was mostly warm water and he was slowly cleaned. He came back to awareness at the steady warm hands scratching into his scalp with some sort of spicy masculine scented shampoo. He leaned back into those hands. 

"Thank you." His voice no longer tremored. "I am starting to think this was an excuse to get me naked." The tease had no bite, simply normalizing amusement. 

Dave smiled behind him, his soapy hands still roaming over Kurt’s back, massaging the tension out of his muscles. “So, I take it you feel better?”

"Much. I lost a little time there..." Kurt's body leaned into those strong arms. "You didn't try anything, did you?"

“Nope, just took a gratuitous peek at your junk,” Dave said into his neck, and let the man lean on his chest, not caring about his shirt. His hand slid down Kurt’s arms and he intertwined their fingers, hugging Kurt. 

Kurt laughed, finding himself safe there. He moved back under the water to rinse himself down. He was soon wrapped in a faded towel sitting up on the sink while he examined his face. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken. 

“I need a shower too. It’s been a long day. You can go already to the room. Make yourself something to eat, my food is on the left side of the shelves in the fringe.” Dave said taking off his pants.

"Go ahead. I'm not really up to facing your room mate alone yet." Kurt glanced into the mirror, enjoying the view of Dave's muscled backside. He could handle watching Dave's skin stretch and his shoulders roll under the water. It kept his mind away from the panic.

“Do you think... when they find body. The gangsters will point to you or seek revenge on their own?” Dave whispered.

Kurt sighed, turning to fully face the naked man behind doused in water. At least it was a pleasing view for an unpleasant conversation. "The gang cornered me for revenge. Eddie's death will scatter some of them but yes. The will want blood."

Dave swallowed nervously. “So... I thought about it a little. The most important now is to keep you here. The problem is, if the cops will start sniffing around, they’ll find out what gun he was killed with. Then they’ll search for people who recently bought that model. That leads to me. And to you.” He paused before soaping his sponge again. “Therefore, we should act like you don’t know me. Like you don’t have any gun, and weren’t even there, where it all happened. That’s the best strategy when it comes to police. But then again, you can’t go anywhere without the risk of being found out by the gang. Fuck.” Dave rubbed his forehead. He was starting to get a headache. “We should definitely hide the gun.”

"Report it stolen so the police don't think you did it. Do you go to any other clubs but mine?" Kurt didn’t for a moment think that Dave stayed exclusively him. 

“No,” Dave turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t go to any clubs.” He grabbed the shampoo and chafed it into his skull. “What does it matter anyway? And if I report it stolen now, it still won’t be much of an alibi.” He shut his eyes and let the water wash him.

"If you report it stolen then it's something. You were here all night with your roommate. The school keeps track of you coming and..."

“Um. Not really. Did you see how little the desk clerk gave a shit? Plus if they check the video in the coridor it shows you walking in. It's still going to lead to you."

"You must have been with someone who can vouch for you without resorting to the video record. If you say you think the gun was taken yesterday then they have a huge list of possible suspects to go through."

“Right. Okay. I can ask Az,” Dave murmured, the chaos in his head started clearing a little. He inhaled sharply and turned to Kurt suddenly. “What about Melanie? Won’t they try to get to her?”

"Fuck." Kurt's eyes went wide. "I need to tell her to get out of there for a few days."

“Do you remember her number? Just use my phone.” Dave started hastily wiping himself with a towel.

Kurt nodded, his eyes petting over Dave's broad bare form in the reflection. Those arms around him tonight... He wouldn't ask, but they looked safe and alive. 

Dave stared at the floor for a moment, before finally speaking up again. “If cops get involved and we fuck up our testimonies, it can all get even worse. For both of us.” He reached for his disregarded by the sink clothes and began dressing up. “Maybe it’d be better if I’d just confessed.”

"You are not confessing to anything! What could you say? It's a murder. I will not let you entertain this madness a second longer, hear me? I will walk right back out there alone without a penny and find the nearest police station."

“They’ll have me, weapon, confession, won’t listen to you. It’ll go quickly. I may even not be sentenced for a murder. Self-defense. It can work out.” Dave said. He adverted his eyes and add quietly the same thought that already visited Kurt’s mind. “You know what will happen to you in a prison.”

"No, David." Kurt slid from the counter, his long body confident in each step. A hand on Dave's chin forced Dave's eyes to meet his. "I have survived and I always will. What this means is I skip town. I find somewhere to lay low. You report the gun missing and when they can't place you at the crime with some alibi, they will write it off as gang violence."

Dave stared at the man who turned his world upside down. They were so close. He could still feel the fathom press of Kurt’s body against his. “It’s all my fault,” he said. “I knew you wanted revenge and I gave you the weapon for it. Just didn’t think you’d risk going after them.”

"What? You think I tried to... David!" Kurt's voice rang off the bathroom walls. "I did not search them out. I didn't go shooting every rapist gangbanger I found. They cornered me. Would you have rathered I let them?"

“Oh... I just assumed... Because they deserved it,” Dave’s voice was firm. “And I hope they suffered.”

"I hope so too." Kurt calmed, finding an ally in Dave. He didn't know what it said that he cared what the broad man thought of him. "I'm sorry I came to you. Especially after that last day. I meant what I said and... I just should have stuck to my words and not come running like a fucking damsel."

Dave’s warm smile faded. “So... I still mean nothing to you. Even though you're here, implying me in a murder."

"I ran to you first, blindly, when I needed sanctuary. I'd say that means you are the most important person in my life right now. Which says a lot about its sorry state." Tension traveled up Kurt's arms at Dave's sudden selfishness.

The bigger man huffed in irritation. “So what more do you want me to do? I fucking offer to give up my freedom for you and you still can’t even pretend to like me?”

Kurt slapped Dave, hard across his cheek. "You bastard. You only self-sacrifice to have an excuse to play victim!"

Dave’s hand flew to his cheek. “What the fuck?” He grabbed the man’s hand and held it firmly. “You ungrateful little shit! _I’m_ playing the victim? You use me when you need me just to put me on the shelf the moment I solve your problems!” 

Tears came back into Kurt's eyes. He didn't want to run to Dave. He hated the unthinking part that trusted the behemoth. He hated the safety that he found in those thick arms. He hated the warmth that kept him from completely breaking down. Dave was a beacon, promising that the world still turned and Kurt was still alive to fight another day. Kurt slammed his lips against Dave's.

Dave whimpered. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with sudden change in the air but the moment it did, he released Kurt from the hold he had on him and pressed the thin body against himself, pushing it away the very next second. “What are you doing?!”

"Please." Kurt was lost without Dave's body and warmth reminding him that he was real. "David. I need you." Kurt couldn't explain it, but his skin was pulled thin and his body growing colder by the second. He was going to collapse from the hell of this night and curl somewhere until he disappeared if he couldn't be pressed to Dave's warmth. "Please."

His hands were back on Kurt’s body before he could process it. He tugged the offensive piece of towel from the man’s frame and grabbed his ass, driving their bodies together. Their cocks slid against each other over the still damp skin as Dave’s fingers traveled to Kurt’s labia. “Say you want me. Say it,” he growled.

"I want you. I want you, David. Please." Kurt stumbled over the words in his haste to get the out. Kurt felt like he would come apart without Dave's touch. He gripped Dave's shoulders and lifted his body so his legs wrapped around Dave's hips. There were advantages to being a thin dancer.

Dave grunted in approval, lips sealed over Kurt’s throat, and slipped two fingers into the man, letting him ride them. He trapped him between his body and the wall.

"Fuck! Dave, yes." Kurt panted as those fingers opened his pussy in preparation. He wanted David inside him, no barriers or worries or 'shop talk'. Just Dave in him. 

“What, am I good enough now?” Dave sneered twisting his wrist to pressed against the bundle of nerves he knew connected with the base of Kurt’s shaft. 

"Yes."Kurt whimpered as his body shuddered in the first waves of precursor to orgasm. "So good. Dave. Please, in me."

Dave moaned and left last parting bite on Kurt’s neck, before hefting the man a little and aligning his hips against him. He used the head of his cock to spread Kurt’s lips and pressed into him, sliding in slowly and filling his narrow passage inch by inch.

Kurt clung to Dave's shoulders and he was filled. He panted into Dave's ear. "Baby, oh Dave... so... much."

Dave breathed heavily from keeping the man up. He wanted to just shove all frustration and hurt into the man with each punishing thrust of his hips. Instead he barely moved. “Like that? You like? So fucking tight.”

Kurt tensed his legs, rocking his hips just enough to make friction for them both. It was barely any movement, but it burst pleasure through Kurt's body in tiny shudders. "So... so gentle. You... you should be hurting me. Fucking me like they did. But you're gentle."

“Jesus, Kurt.” Dave corrected his grip on the man and brought his left hand to cup his cheek. “Don’t say that.” His eyes shut close as he shivered against the other man with barely restrained tears.

Kurt kissed Dave's lips chastely, a strange contrast when he was engulfing Dave's manhood. He pressed his forehead against Dave's. "It's true. For all your faults and assumptions and privilege... You are so gentle."

“Shh,” Dave cooed, not able to stand those words any moment longer. Kurt was right, every harsh word the man ever said to him was rigthful, every push away justified. He was a fool to think he deserved the affection. The tears slid down his cheeks. “Just forget it now, please,” he murmured and let his hips undulate against Kurt’s in a slow pace, enjoying every tiny shiver that run through the body in his arms.

"Thank you." Kurt kissed away Dave's tears. He didn't mind the tile digging into his back. The burn in his thighs from keeping himself on Dave barely touched his mind. All that mattered was that they were alive and safe. 

Their breathing resounded over the bathroom until they both succumbed to the pleasure. On shaky legs Kurt lowered himself back to the floor. Dave's warm hand cupped his cheek. 

“You can stay with me. For now. As long as you want,” Dave said turning the shower back on for a second to rinse Kurt’s clear fluid from their stomachs. 

"For now. I need some rest." Kurt closed the gap between them, pressing his chest flush to Dave. He left a whisper of a kiss on his lips.

Dave smiled shyly. “Let’s go back to my room. Are you hungry?” 

"Famished."


	14. What Would You Give

"I don't think I've ever had a better pizza in my life." Kurt was wrapped in the comforter from Dave's narrow dorm bed licking the last of the greasy food off his fingers. The indulgence of delivery pizza worked into his soul and brought a brighter morning to Kurt than he'd felt in days. Strange for a murderer, but Kurt would take the joy he could.

Dave snorted. "It's pretty okay. I wish I could take you for a normal breakfast. Somewhere fancy," he added softer hoping Kurt would read it as asking him out. They were sitting next to each other, shoulders pressed together and Dave had to fight the impulse to wrap his arm around Kurt.

"Me too. I would break the bank with the largest stack of french toast." Kurt didn't see anything wrong with indulging in the images. They were sweet and should Kurt be able to change his life, he would much rather have the luxury of simply having a morning date than be hiding from the law.

"Well, we could do something." Dave perked up. "You don't have to stay tucked in this room all the time, they won't search for you in this neighbourhood anyway." He leaned in to place a kiss on Kurt's head. "You need clothes and I'm not letting you go back to your place. So what do you say, shopping?"

"Shopping..." Kurt would need to change and get away from his incriminating clothing and get into a new style. Something more masculine since the gangsters probably would say he was a girl whore. "That sounds wonderful but... It's risky. I don't want you implicated in this if we are seen together."

"We already were..." Dave nodded at the opposite bed. Kurt was right, they should be careful. "So... You'd rather wear my stuff?" He grinned. "Sexy."

Kurt smirked and shifted himself so he could lean on Dave's side. "With a few alterations I could make it runway chic. I'm just that amazing."

"I don't doubt that," Dave murmured staring at Kurt's collarbone peeking out of the shirt he borrowed him to sleep in. He tugged the material to reveal a little more and leaned to kiss the skin he found.

Kurt smiled at the affectionate peck. It was sweet, this whole morning seemed like an excerpt of someone else's life. He let out a soft, happy sigh. He wanted it to stay like this, ignore the world and their past. He could be Dave's college fling and make beautiful memories of sleeping on Dave's tiny dorm bed. "Do you have class?"

"Nothing I can't skip," Dave said into his neck and sucked on the skin as his hand slid over Kurt's thigh under the blanket and riled up the boxers he gave him.

"You shouldn't sacrifice your education." Kurt closed his eyes as the warmth of Dave's broad hand stirred something inside of him. "I should be planning an escape..."

Dave hmpf'd in a reply. His fingertips brushed little circles onto the hairless insides of Kurt's thighs as his teeth found Kurt's earlobe and bit it gently.

"Fuck..." Kurt wanted to just feel good... And Dave wanted him to pretend to be a boyfriend. Was it so terrible to give in? "David... I have to ask you something."

Dave let his fingers slid in further and brush over Kurt's pubic hair. "Yeah? What about?" He whispered right next to his ear and caressed the man's cheek with his lips.

"If you could have one night. Just one where it was perfect and I was yours. What would you give for that?"

The jock leaned back with a frown. "What do you mean? And why only one night?"

"It's hypothetical. I just..." Kurt bit his lip, trying not to let the plan forming in his mind show through. "I'll have to leave. I can't live in your dorm."

"We'll find some solution, babe." Dave dismissed the ramblings. He shifted, his hand wrapped under Kurt's thigh and the other pushed gently at his chest giving signal to lay down. Dave smiled at him and licked his lips. "So it's like, some end-of-the-world scenario?" His eyes were crinkling with amusement. "One last night together, huh?"

"Exactly. I was dying or going to vanish like a faerie to the morning light. What would you give to be with me?" Kurt laid himself down under Dave. With a deep breath he let his legs press against Dave's sides as the broad man climbed over his body.

Dave hovered over the smaller man, careful not to settle his whole weight on him and cocked his head, thinking through the question. "Hmm, my left kidney?" He said finally and chuckled. "What would your fairy form request?" He leaned in to kiss Kurt's lips.

"All of your gold." He smiled playfully, a stone of worry sinking in him. Kurt knew he was worth about 200 on a good night and 300 if they wanted something strange or difficult. He was going to need at least that to make a new start.

"My gold?" Dave leaned back with a smirk. "And here I thought we were in for some romantic cheese." His hand sneaked under the waistband of Kurt's boxers and revealed the pear hip. He moved lower to kiss the barely jutting bone and pull up the shirt Kurt was wearing. "I could offer my heart but you already took it. So yeah, gold it is, I guess." He grinned up at Kurt and came back to mouthing at his abdomen.

Kurt lifted his hips toward David's mouth. Dave was willing to give up his money to have one night together with the dream he'd built. Kurt could be that dream. Kurt smiled and shockingly only the smallest edge of joy had to be faked. "Then all of your gold I will have, lover. Take me."

Dave smiled and pulled the underwear off the man quickly. He bent Kurt's legs in knees and spread them taking a moment to just soak in the sight in front of him. Kurt's short shaft was already up and ready to be taken in his mouth. Dave decided to leave it for later. He slid his hands up Kurt's legs and caught his eyes when his finger traced the folds and opening. The pink flesh was already dewy with the man's juices.

Kurt gasped as the pleasure sparked through his body. He pressed his pussy up toward Dave's sweet touches. All he had to do was make love to Dave and he would survive. Just like any other transaction, just this one was a play for the heart rather than the body. "Tease. That feels good, baby."

"I didn't even start teasing you yet," Dave smiled at the nickname. Maybe all the mess they got into was actually for the better. He leaned in and kissed the inside of Kurt's thigh. After second thought, he started sucking a hickey into the flesh. Just a little reminder Kurt would see later. His hand cupped Kurt's vulva and pressed at it but he concentrated on the skin under his lips.

"Mmm." Kurt's thighs twitched and jumped under the pressure of the forming bruise. He was going to have that tomorrow. Kurt itched to place a mark on Dave, something lasting. "Kiss me?"

Dave grinned and planted a loud kiss on the crook of his leg. "Like this?" He asked cheekily. He licked up Kurt's pussy. "Or you'd rather have my mouth someplace else?"

"Nnn. No." Dave's adoration of his anatomy was always going to be amazing. Or would be for the last time... Kurt let the rising lust crowd out the thoughts. This was not supposed to be sad. It was supposed to be living in the moment. His long fingers threaded into Dave's hair. "Right there is just fine, thank you."

Dave groaned in agreement and sealed his lips over Kurt's pussy, sucking and delicately nibbing at the folds with his teeth. He teased the opening with his tongue before slipping in and moaning at how wet and hot Kurt was.

Dave was way too good at that. He squirmed under the torment. Kurt needed that liquid coil of heat to peak. But the attention was focused on his pussy. It made his cock twitch and strain for attention. "Dave. Please."

"Can you come like this?" He asked and pushed his tongue in him again, probing at walls of Kurt's pussy.

"Maybe." Kurt groaned as his leg muscles tensed trying to push toward Dave's mouth. "I... nnn... Don't play with that part much."

"Maybe you should." Dave grinned and went back to his task. Knowing that Kurt never orgasmed from being eaten out was a challenge he was ready to undertake. He groaned and pushed into the man, fucking him with his tongue.

Kurt let his head fall back against the pillows as he weathered the crashing lust. His labia was being abraded by Dave's stubbly cheeks. It should feel painful but, with his natural lubrication smeared across David's face, it felt amazing. He knew he was getting close to peak when the flush finished it's trip down to his nipples and his toes curled. "Dave... fuck!"

Dave moaned when Kurt's legs tightened around his head and slurped hungrily at the liquid spurting from the man. He worked his tongue into him through his peak and didn't stop until Kurt's limbs dropped as if boneless against his body.

Kurt's cock was twitching in the thin bedding of pubic hair. The clear fluid had dripped down to pool around his tip. Kurt couldn't move if he wanted to. He floated more than happy to simply exist. The only thing better would be a big warm Dave to wrap him up.

Dave sat back and looked at Kurt, satisfied with his work. He leaned in and licked up Kurt's cock, not able to help himself, and then dropped on the bed next to the man. "So I take it you liked?"

Kurt made a purr as he cuddled toward Dave. He nuzzled until he found Dave's shoulder. He was going to need a minute to come down, but he wanted his mark. With tiny kitten licks he mapped out a bit of warm skin in the center of the huge upper shoulder muscle. He then bit hard.

"Ah!" Dave startled. "What the hell?!" He looked at the man but his eyes were smiling. "That's what I get for providing earth-shaking orgasm?"

Kurt shot him a haughty glare... well as haughty as one can get while sucking at someone's skin until your lips ached. Kurt thought he pulled it off well. He had the nose for it.

"Oh, I get it. Avenging for the hickey? You know, I'm just gonna put another one on you for this," Dave grinned and shifted to wrap arm around the man and bring him closer.

Kurt found himself nose to nose with David. All he had to do was tilt to steal a kiss. One was hardly sufficient so he swept his tongue along Dave's bottom lip and nipped.

Dave responded slowly, enjoying the opportunity to kiss Kurt without transaction or danger hanging over them. There was nothing to push the man to do it this time and yet he was searching out Dave's touch. The jock sighed happily and pressed firmer against him.

Kurt shifted, trying to get his butt away from the edge of the tiny bed... It was no use. "Lay on your back."

Dave complied. His hands gripped Kurt's hips as the smaller man was settling over him. "Whatcha have in mind?"

"I'm going to ride you." Kurt flashed a devil's grin and arched for Dave. The move showed off his long pale neck and the shift of his lean muscles under his snow white skin.

"Fuck, Kurt." Dave sat up abruptly to wrap that body in his arms. He rolled his hips into Kurt's groin, his dick was more than happy with the man's idea. "Can you get the condoms out of my nightstand?" He asked a little flustered. Last night they did it without protection. Which... okay, Dave knew it was reckless, but couldn't regret that moment even if he wanted.

"Forget them. I trust you. And I can't get pregnant. I want to feel just you in me." Kurt leaned down as he nudged his entrance against the tip of Dave's cock. "Please, baby?"

"But..." Dave looked at loss. He trusted Kurt too... But the man was a prostitute and- Dave didn't know how to bring this up. "You sure this is okay?"

Kurt tried not to grimace at the glaring implication in the words. He couldn't have that. He couldn't give Dave the illusion of a real boyfriend. "No... of course not. I'll go get them."

"I didn't mean to..." Dave's arms dropped on the bed. "Sorry. If it makes a big difference for you when I'm in we can just... um..."

"You're right, David." Kurt slid off the man's body and stood beside the bed. He cupped one of Dave's cheek. "I should protect you from what I... am."

Dave groaned and rubbed his face. Great, he totally destroyed the mood. "Please, Kurt, don't take it personal. I would want a rubber regardless." He caressed the man's arm as he settled back between Dave's legs.

"It's fine. You're right in any case, Dave." He kissed the broad chest, and pasted on a smile. "Come on, babe. Put it on so I can get you inside."

Dave slid the condom on himself quickly and gripped the base to make it easier for Kurt to push down on him. Maybe the moment wasn't gone for good yet. He smiled at the man. "All ready for you."

Kurt licked two of his fingers and pressed them between his lips to test his own readiness. "Still wet from your mouth." He slid them out before balancing with both hands planted on Dave's lower chest. He eased the tip inside his narrow passage. "Oh, Dave."

"Shh, baby, take your time," Dave said, more to himself than Kurt. He bit his lip forcing himself to stay still.

Kurt rocked with tiny shifts of his hips. Every little movement sucked David's cock deeper into his pussy. He looked down to Dave with flushed cheeks. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes," Dave breathed out. "Just... Can you go deeper?" He took Kurt's penis between his fingers to help him through the painful beginning.

Kurt groaned at the touch. Being allowed complete control over the first penetration always helped the pain of being tighter that average. "Yes."

Dave grunted in response and focused on Kurt's shaft. His other hand kneed Kurt's ass cheek. Dave tugged the penis lightly and rubbed his thumb over the head, watching Kurt's face in fascination. "That good, baby?"

Kurt had expected Dave to try to start jack-hammering in. The attention was a welcome change. "Exquisite. You like playing with my dick, don't you?"

"I like playing with everything of yours." Dave winked. "But your cock is particularly cute."

"Charmer. It's not cute. It's thick and hard." Kurt wrinkled his nose at the diminutive description.

Dave raised an eyebrow at the comment. His hand closed around the small prick. "That's right, babe. It really is," he said, voice low, and closed his eyes. "I wish you'd fuck me with it. Hard, so I could barely take it. You'd like that, Kurt?" He looked at him through half closed lids. "Shove your thick cock in my virgin hole?"

"Oh, fuck." Kurt plunged all the way down until their hips touched. "I'd fuck you so hard. You'd be screaming and biting at the bed trying to contain it. I'd take your ass in long thrusts making my cock disappear in you ever time."

Dave whimpered over the imaginary. "You would. And I'd take it." He gathered the precum with his thumb and stopped jerking the man off for a moment to lick it off. "You'd come in me, right?" He rubbed the shaft. "Plunge in and come so I'd feel you deep."

"Yes." Kurt gasped as he lifted and dropped himself on Dave's cock. The imaginary scene they created fueled his moves to match the pace he would have taken inside Dave. "I'd come in you. I'd keep inside until I was soft just to make you keep it."

Dave's hands flew to Kurt's hips, gripping tight. He moaned, Kurt allowed faster speed than before. "God, fuck, Kurt. You'd totally use my ass until you were sure I couldn't sit down, yeah?" He mumbled, completely lost in the imagery too. "I want you so fucking much."

"Fuck. Baby. Take that." Kurt was slamming up and down on Dave's cock, close to finding another peak. "Come. Fuck, come from my big cock in you. Do it."

"Yes. Fuck me, I- I...," Dave's voice broke into a roar, his hips raised from the mattress and shoved into the man as he cursed and twitched, spurting into the condom.

Kurt keened and someone from the next dorm over banged on a wall to try to shut up their pleasured sounds. Kurt let himself fall exhausted on Dave's chest. The spent cock slid from his vagina with a slick pop. Kurt couldn't be bothered to move. This wasn't one of his normal tricks. He had no where to be and no work to do. The luxury of staying in Dave's huge arms was a gift.

Dave laid for a moment in nearly blank-mind state, relishing in the weight of another man on his body. Finally, he shifted against his will and slid his hand on Kurt's thigh to caress the tired muscles. "You okay, babe? That was pretty intense." He tried to keep the worry out of his voice but Kurt's anatomy left questions about the man's limits.

"Mmm hmm. I'm okay. I'll be sore once the afterglow wears off." Kurt had felt pain, but it hardly mattered during the heights of their shared fantasy. Now it began to twinge.

Dave held him tighter. "We could... you know. Do that sometimes. For real this time."

"Me fucking you?" Kurt smiled sadly into Dave's neck. There would be no next time. This was the last, the goodbye. He didn't want to promise what he couldn't make good on. "I'm sure you'll get a chance to work your ass."

"Yeah..." Dave already mused about the possible scenarios. He shifted Kurt to his side and left a kiss on his lips before smirking. "So, you're okay with getting a strap-on for Christmas?"

"You are already giving me plenty." Kurt's fingers caressed the outline of Dave's jaw. "More than you know."

Dave smiled warmly at the unspoken confession. Maybe Kurt wasn't quite there yet, but he was coming around. Dave knew he would. He gave the man last parting kiss and slid off the bed to dispose the used rubber and wipe at the come that poured off it on his groin.

Kurt watched, taking in the last images of Dave he would ever see. Sex, with a fantasy involved, plus the pain Kurt was feeling from the roughness... That could cover most of the cost of running and starting a new life. "Heading somewhere?"

"Nah. I have everything I need here," Dave said sweeping his eyes over Kurt's naked form. "And I think you have a clear schedule as well," he joked, giving the man a tissue. "Just all day for ourselves, unless the dude from dorm next door will get fed up with hearing you."

"He can listen all he wants..." The ringing of a phone that blasted out Aerosmith interrupted Kurt.

"Oops. Hold on, I gotta take this." Dave plopped on his desk chair and pressed the phone against his ear. "'Sup, man," he chirped in overly enthusiastic voice. "Funny how you know when to call," he said and winked at Kurt.

"Don't you sound perky? I didn't know better I'd say you just got some." Azimio's voice chuckled through the earpiece. "You still interested in talking to Mia, the girl I told you about, from that class I'm taking? She's on campus today and her class got canceled."

"Oh!" Dave sat up straighter and glanced at Kurt. He swirled a bit on his chair to hide his face from the man. "Yeah. Yes. I'm in. Thanks," he said in hurry.

"She's at the women's resource center. Don't worry about going in. If there's a counseling group going on they will shoo you out fast enough. Other than that Mia will know who you are."

Dave nodded, he vaguely knew where the center was. "I'll be there in 15. Thanks, man. I owe you." He clapped the phone shut and turned to Kurt, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "Um. So something came up. But I should be back in two hours or so." And hopefully with a new information for you, he added in thoughts.

Kurt's smile was that of a sated joyous lover. Kurt wished that was all he was. This was the perfect time to make his run. Dave was likely to skip classes tomorrow and he was definitely going to sleep inside his dorm tonight. There was no other window of time. "That's just about time for diner. Why don't you leave your wallet and I'll order so it's nice and warm when you come back."

"Good call." Dave fumbled with his jeans and retrieved the leather billfold from one of the pockets. He threw it at the bed and tugged the jeans on. "Don't start without me." He grinned and pulled on the shirt he had on previously.

Kurt wiggled his fingers in a wave. He waited until the door shut behind Dave and he could no longer hear the footfalls.

_Time to go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: If you don't remember Mia, she's the women's studies major from Azimio's class.


	15. Goodbye, David

Dave ran down the stairs of his dorm, the need to get to the meeting was only a tranche of his haste. He jumped off the last three steps and grinned easily at the passersby whom he startled from looking at a phone. Without further ado, he directed toward the part of the campus where the women resources centre was situated, or at least where he thought it was. Volunteering or non-profit organizations were unlikely to pop on his radar. Now though, oh, now he was going to act and get help. Actual, tangible, bagels-preempting help. They’d think of options, get Kurt one of those pro bono lawyers or maybe even welfare.

It all was going to turn around for them. All was going to be fine.

The door to the center opened with a whoosh of air and Dave waltzed in, ready to weaponize himself with knowledge and booklets.

***

Three greyhound busses and a train. Three greyhound busses and a train until Kurt was across the continent. He was going to Nevada, where it was legal to do what he did. Maybe he'd find a better club, or maybe work in an actual brothel. He would be so far away from David that it wouldn't matter how hard the police looked, if they looked at all.

Kurt leaned his forehead against the window of the bus as houses rushed past them. Where would Dave be now? He'd left a little over two hours ago. The man would have gotten back to his dorm room by now. He would have found all of his money gone.

Kurt shivered as the greyhound pulled to a stop. It was a refuel and the passengers shuffled off to stretch their legs. They were a state away, right on the border of Pennsylvania and New York, but the idea of being out of New York jurisdiction was enough to sooth Kurt. Adrenaline had drained from his body a half-hour ago. He moved off the bus and walked. At the corner of the gas station he found a pay-phone. He dipped his fingers in the return change drop. There was a quarter. Kurt wondered if he should start believing in fate.

He pressed the quarter back into the machine and dialed the number that had stared at him from his fridge not so long ago.

“Kurt?” Dave’s voice was in both measures surprised and joyful. “I’ll be right home. The meeting kinda dragged, but... I’ll tell you all about it when I’ll get back. Why'd you call? Missing me?” The man grinned into the cell phone.

Kurt smiled sadly. He had expected Dave to curse him, to have already found him gone. He fingered the cash in his pocket, guilt settling in his chest. "Of course."

Dave laughed a little and clicked his tongue. Would he dare? Fuck it, he could say whatever he wanted even if he was to be overheard. “I can’t wait to see you too,” he lowered his voice and added, “Fuck, I can still taste you. I was sitting there all this time, talking with this chick, and thinking about this.”

Kurt blinked away the emotion gathering at the corner of his eyes. Dave's irrepressible hope, how could he have thought that was oppressive. He schooled his voice to not tremble. "You're so naughty... You know no one does that as well as you. No one really wanted to try. Thank you."

Dave bit into his lower lip, hoping his cheek aren’t as red as he feels them. “And now think that we have the whole afternoon just for this.”

"Expensive afternoon." Kurt looked at the bus, making sure the driver was still gassing up. He needed to tell Dave he was going. He needed to end this. He didn't think Dave would follow him, but he had done stupider things. "Just imagine how much you'll end up owing me."

“Owing you?” Doubt drew the first rift over Dave’s mood.

"Ignore me. I... Thank you, Dave. You shouldn't have done most of what you did, but I am grateful for the things you got right." Kurt couldn't control the tremor in his voice.

Dave’s feet slowed down to a halt on the pavement. “Kurt...? Is everything alright?”

"I don't have much time left. Dave, don't follow me. This isn't about us and what happened. You can't follow where I'm going."

“What... Where?” Dave jolted into run before Kurt’s words fully registered. “Kurt, where are you going?!”

"I shouldn't tell you. Not unless you swear not to follow." Kurt pressed his forehead against the phone. "Dave... I can hear you running. I'm already gone. I'm at a payphone in Pennsylvania."

“No.” The man panted as he jogged up the stairs and down the corridor, running to his room. “Why would you do this? It’s a joke, right? One of your fucked up keeping-distance tactics.”

"I'm wanted for murder, Dave. I couldn't drag you into my life and I need a new start. Should I have not called? I wanted you to have a good last time." Kurt sighed.

He burst into his room and found it empty. For some inexplicably stupid reason Dave was still surprised by that fact. He shored on the desk when the realization weighed on him. “You... you lied to me... Why?”

"Is that really how you're... Dammit, Dave! What was going to happen? I was going to live in your dorm room? Or would you have gotten tired of me, there's only so many _whore_ tricks I know!" Kurt snarled into the phone.

A laugh startled out of him and before he knew he was clenching the phone in a shaking hand and muffling his laughter with the other. It was a wet, unpleasant sound. Dave dropped on his ass next to the bed. Sheets were still crumpled as they left them.

“Did you take my money?” He asked after finally gaining control over his voice.

"I earned it!" Kurt huffed entirely indignant.

“As you did with Kyle’s clothes I see?”

"He owes me for improving his wardrobe by removing these travesties." Kurt raised an eyebrow. "This is a goodbye. Nice to know you hate me at the end of it. I feel like I could have predicted this."

“I don’t hate you.” Dave said quietly. “I don’t hate you so much, Kurt.”

"Good..." Kurt really should have planned out this call.

“I meant, did you take all my money?” Dave asked, completely sober. “I didn’t have that much in the wallet, but in the desk...” The prospect of getting up to check seemed unreal.

"I found the desk fund..." Kurt couldn't stop the bitter tone. He heard accusation in Dave's voice despite the neutral tone. "Should I expect a robbery charge tacked onto the murder now?"

“No... That’s not what I... Jesus.” Dave rubbed his forehead. The implications of Kurt’s confession finally started settling in his mind as dust after a battle. In turn, they stirred up thousands of questions that crowded like ravenous ravens over the corpse of their relationship. Could he even call it that? Was it real or all in his head? Did he had Kurt earlier that day or was his body just a bargain in a deal he didn’t even realize he was making?

Dave frowned, his big body shifting to sit on the bed. It _felt_ like something real and it might as well have been; just as much as it wasn’t. Maybe stories like theirs just weren’t meant to end well outside of movies.

“I just...” He cleared his throat. “I wanted you to be happy. ”

“Look, Dave. This is my life. Life is full of suffering, but it's also full of good things." Kurt wondered what harm a confession would do. Not much. "I did feel happy sometimes with you. It wasn't all... Sometimes you made me happy."

Dave let out a long breath, feeling part of the tension leaving his body with it. “But what will you do without me?” He tried for a playful tone and failed miserably.

“Maybe this time I'll find a club that pays better. Or get into a 9 to 5 I never imagined I'd like. Your money gives me a start. Was I worth it? Were you happy?" Kurt smiled at the rush of memory. He smiled for bagels in the morning and loading machines at the laundromat together. He smiled for the teasing banter. He touched the gun tucked against his skin. Most of all, Kurt smiled for Dave telling him how to clean it before doing exactly as Kurt asked, walking away.

Dave tried to understand the explanation but it buzzed into a white noise covering Kurt’s question. Did Kurt make him happy, or was it only in his head as well? He chased the traces of normalcy and squeezed happiness out of the other man because he thought he deserved it. He pushed and threatened. For Kurt’s own good, of course, reveling in how many ‘good person’ points it got him. His happiness was strongly intertwined with Kurt’s misery and it made him sick. _Were you happy?_ Dave considered the question anew.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I never asked for Elizabeth?” A melancholic smile played on his lips.

A slow long intake of breath steadied Kurt's response in his chest. "No. Not for me at least."

“I wasn’t happy when you fought me,” Dave confessed. “When you threw me out of your life, over and over, acting like you had any right to be _too proud_ to accept the help. You’re so damned proud, so strong,” Dave said wistfully before shaking his head and coming back on Earth. “So you have enough money to get you there, right...?” He asked desperately hoping the real question - _Where are you going?_ \- wasn’t too obvious.

"Promise you won't follow me?" Kurt teased, surprised that he could laugh at the past already. It was raw, but healing. "I hear my line of work is legal in Nevada. Can you imagine? No more pimps, no more gangs controlling the clubs. It's probably not perfect, but it has to be better."

Kurt put on a good face. He always knew how to pull a smile when his world was falling down around him. He wasn't going to tell Dave that his money was all Kurt had in the world. All Kurt's money was in a hiding place at his apartment, now lost to him. He'd make sure to tell Mel where it was. He wasn't going to say that he'd sell the gun in one state and then immediately greyhound to another to avoid it being tracked. He wasn't going to let Dave hear about the things he'd have to do to fill gaps while he looked for stable work. He just smiled, confidence growing. He knew he would survive, even if it meant leaving the closest he'd ever got to Broadway and his childhood dream.

It was time to let go of sentiment and start living instead of just surviving. Reality was a gun in his hand that had defeated one of the many monsters in his little word. And the recoil had sent him careening toward the future. Like Dave, sudden and harsh and ripping through Kurt's life, but ultimately opening up a better tomorrow.

“Seems like a plan,” Dave said and in the quiet solitary of his defrauded room it sounded like, _Good luck_. It was a farewell, as he was warned at the beginning of their conversation. Couple minutes ago, when he still believed Kurt was his. What a stupid, selfish thought. He knew since the start that he can’t posses this man, but only rent him for couple hours a day.

"Dave, stay out of trouble. You're a good guy when you stop trying to be what everyone else thinks you should be." Kurt turned at the sound of the bus horn. "I have to go."

“Will I see you again?” He sat up sensing the urgency in Kurt’s voice. The phone dug painfully into his ear as he waited for the response.

Kurt glanced to the phone. "If my adventure gets interesting, I'll come back around and tell you the story." He wished he could touch Dave and comfort them both.

"Goodbye, David."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Strippers, Closets and Broken Things” is finished and it took us only a year to get here! (LOL.) It’s the first fanfic we started writing together (in March last year) and the first one we closed. Thank you to of all you who supported us throughout this journey by leaving reviews and favorites/likes; your feedback means the world for us and helped us bring this story to its end.
> 
> Yeah, about that end: we know it’s probably not the way most of you hoped for this story to conclude and to be perfectly honest- we didn’t picture it like that either. But during writing, the plot started evolving on its own and swerved away from the “two damaged people brought together” trope we were originally going for. That’s the price for writing something over the course of a year, I suppose. Anyway, we realized that validating the unhealthy relationship Kurt and Dave have _right now_ by making them date, just for the sake of happy ending, would make a disservice for the story. On the other hand, we really wanted to finish at least one of our WiPs, so we decided to leave out the fluffy, happy stuff for sequel. That story will focus on bringing Kurt and Dave together. For now though- we’re sorry for unintentional unhappy ending and cliffhanger. (You really don’t have to worry about Kurt though. He’s going to do well for himself, promise.)


End file.
